


Tomorrow Morning, They'll Know What You Did

by chittaflakes



Category: NCT (Band), SM Rookies
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, I hate myself, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Light Angst, M/M, So many clubs, Such promises, Underage Drinking, gay-straight alliance, much cuddling, what is this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8074450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chittaflakes/pseuds/chittaflakes
Summary: "You can't keep filming me forever, y'know," Johnny muses as he pushes the separated chunks of chocolate into a semi-neat pile."I know." Ten smiles that endearing smile of his, and Johnny kind of wants to snap his pretty little neck. "When I have to stop, I'll run."





	1. Chapter 1

          Wednesday, April 8th, 2009

 

          Johnny's heart feels like it's sprinting a marathon.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid..._ he thinks, whipping around the corner only to find yet another empty hallway. Everyone else is in class by this point, this he knows; the bell went off four minutes ago. That's two hundred and forty seconds worth of lessons lost, and counting.

          Perhaps things would have gone as planned if he hadn't listened to his friends. They've always been the type to lag behind, to bully teachers and students alike. How Johnny ended up with people like them is a mystery to him. When they'd scurried up to him with their heads hung low and their hands clasped feebly before them, Johnny had assumed they'd genuinely wanted his help, maybe even needed it. Of course, they hadn't in the end. It had all been a plot to fuck him up and make him seem like an idiot.

          Whatever the case, it's irrelevant to him now. There's no room for regret in his heart, not with the fear lurking inside, shrivelling it up like it has been set aflame. He's late. _John Seo_ is inexplicably, unfathomably late.

          It's simply unheard of.

          He's aware he can't use the usual excuse, "The classroom's not where it used to be". Everyone was made aware of its new location at the beginning of the school year. Due to the urgent need of the previous room, the eighth graders' math class is to be found on the seventh grade floor, in amongst their classrooms from the previous year.

          Johnny manages to regulate his erratic breathing as his classroom nears, and he releases a mental cheer of self-congratulations. He's finally made it. What with how much Ms. Vincent adores him, Johnny is almost certain she will let him off just this once. He's constantly on time, always arriving minutes before everyone else, and he's never been one to speak out during a lesson. She's mentioned several times how much she 'truly appreciates his presence in her classroom.' Seeing as this is only his first time arriving late, she most likely won't mind.

          Preening outside the door, Johnny smooths his fingers through his hair, pausing mid-action as deafening applause resonates from across the hall. He recognizes the sound. It's the sort of applause that only occurs when students _desperately_ wish to mask their apathy; a noise of such raucous caliber is rarely heard, save for the scarce instances in which a new student presents themselves.

_New student._

          Johnny glances over his shoulder into the cheaply lit room. There, situated awkwardly at the front of the class, is an odd-looking kid with poorly dyed hair. The teacher, whom Johnny vaguely recalls is named Mrs. Munden, has her wrinkled hand placed firmly on his shoulder, clearly attempting to make him feel secure. However, it seems to have the opposite effect, as the kid's face noticeably pales.

          Johnny strains to catch the teacher's words.

          "Class, this is Ten Chitta..." Mrs. Munden pauses, an air of uneasiness thickening the atmosphere so intensely that even Johnny can sense it. She clears her throat awkwardly and dips her head to the kid's ear, supposedly murmuring an apology, before straightening up and offering her students a saccharine smile. "Let's give him a warm welcome!"

          More overly enthused applause.

          The last thing Johnny notices before someone leaps up to close the door is the new kid's awkward wave and contrastingly bright smile. Scratching the side of his nose, Johnny lets out a low hum.

_Ten. What a weird name,_ he muses, turning back to face the door to his own classroom. Something about the kid irritates him, be it the shockingly red and black hair or the upturned nose. Perhaps even the eager smile. Whatever it is, Johnny wants to punch the happy out of Ten's face.

 

 

 

          Johnny had ended up stepping into his class eleven minutes late, and for that he blames the new kid. _He's so stupid, he distracted me,_ is what he tells himself time and time again, but some tiny, bothersome part of his mind knows it's his own fault he arrived late.

          As soon as the bell had rung, Johnny was up in a flash, darting from the room and racing all the way down to the cafeteria to meet up with the very same friends that had caused his tardiness to begin with. They'd sent him a text in the middle of his lesson regarding the 'new meat', and Johnny wasn't sure if he wanted to get involved.

          He still isn't, he decides as he drums his fingers disinterestedly on the surface of the table, arching an inquiring brow at his friend, Daniel. He's rattling off about something rather dull. Johnny can't find it in himself to give a damn.

          "He sort of gives off this geeky vibe, don'cha think?" Daniel snickers in a hushed tone, keeping quiet enough so only Johnny and Steven are able to hear him. His copper hair is slicked up again today. Johnny yearns to yank it out of his scalp, bloodied skin and all.

          His thoughts are interrupted as Steven heaves a strident bark of laughter, his voice as reedy as ever. "Yeah, and I heard his name's Ten. What kind of cruel parents does he have?"

          As much as Johnny dislikes the pair, he finds himself nodding along in agreement. Ten can't be the kid's _real_ name. It has an almost video game-like vibe to it, and it sounds like something Johnny would have nicknamed himself when he was eight. Then again, if it is genuine, he supposes it could be considered cool. The name has an air of mystery to it, he thinks.

          In the midst of his thoughts, Johnny doesn't realize he's missing out on the majority of the conversation until he feels a sharp prod on his shoulder.

          "Hey, Johnny, you all right there?" Steven's unappealing face is twisted into an expression of mild concern, and Johnny finds it repulsive. Of course he's all right. He's simply never found things as petty as gossip interesting, and he can't seem to keep his attention on the subject for long. As much as he'd like to make the pair aware of this, he decides against it, instead choosing the worst possible alternative.

          "Yeah, I'm fine. Continue."

          Johnny wants nothing more than to be put out of his misery by this point. He'd rather slam his fingers in the toilet seat than listen to more mockery fall from his friends' chapped lips, but he steels himself against the grating sound of their cackling, silently praying that they'll give up on Ten and find another topic to giggle about.

          "He's from Thailand," Daniel states suddenly, the smug look in his eyes matching the smirk steadily growing on his face. This amuses Steven, as he begins chortling loudly, drawing the attention of several unamused students seated nearby.

          "Thailand, huh?" Johnny mumbles to himself, attention dropping down to his hands. He has to admit, there aren't many Thai kids in their school, and he isn't certain about the rest of Chicago. Regardless of how different this boy may be, the diversity his presence offers is more than welcome. Johnny's growing tired of seeing the same boring faces trudging about the halls.

          Blowing out a breath of relief as Daniel and Steven finally drop the subject of Ten, Johnny allows his mind to drift, eyes wandering about the cafeteria. It's noisy and crammed with hungry students. He almost wishes he could settle down to have lunch in his own classroom and be left to digest in peace. He's lost his appetite. Sadly, eating in private would be considered lame by his peers, and he's sure he'd receive quite the litany of insults if he chose to go against the majority. Instead, he continues glancing about the room, only pausing as his eyes land on a pleasantly new, yet familiar head of cherry-red hair.

          "Ten," Johnny breathes the name softly, enjoying the simplicity of it and the way it feels so effortlessly light on his tongue.

          Ten's head raises, almost as if he'd heard his name being spoken. He scans the cafeteria carefully. Johnny assumes he's searching for a reasonable place to sit. He's only slightly taken aback as Ten's gaze lands on him, and he offers Johnny a warm smile.

          Johnny doesn't smile back.

 

 

 

 

          Wednesday, April 15th, 2009

 

          It has only been a week since Ten arrived and Johnny is already fearing for the boy's life. It seems that while he'd been sifting through his own thoughts, Daniel and Steven had been brewing a plan rather devious, and all he'd done was sit idly by and allow it to happen. He hadn't remained silent with the intent of Ten's day being ruined.

          Although it's quite odd, Johnny thinks, how such a cheery kid has already garnered the attention of two of the school's most persistent bullies. He can't recall Ten ever interacting with them. All the boy seems to do is plod contentedly from class to class, flashing each and every passerby an amiable smile. Johnny must admit, while Ten clearly does it with the best of intentions, it only serves to irritate a great portion of the student body. Happy people don't exactly exist within the confines of his school, nor does their cheer survive the monotonous lifestyle Chicago has to offer.

          Daniel and Steven seem to be intent on crushing the glee out of Ten before the city can. Johnny had only been filled in on their less-than-decent plans earlier that morning, and from the sounds of it, Ten's smile will soon be erased. Johnny isn't sure if only for a moment or the rest of the year.

          Either way, he figures it's pretty terrible. No matter how irksome Ten's optimism may be, Johnny doesn't believe it deserves to be stamped out entirely. Maybe a little sunshine is all they need around for trees to begin to grow.

          Johnny's chest constricts as Steven releases a loud bark, and suddenly Ten's in his line of vision. He feels the anxiousness originally twisting in the pit of his stomach surge to the surface, the look of naivety on Ten's round face making his heart bleed with guilt. They shouldn't be doing this, not to a boy so pure.

          Steven's expression is devoid of culpability. Everything about him is. Instead, his lips are curled with malicious amusement, and his eyes are flashing with something akin to greed. Johnny's fingers itch with the urge to wrap themselves around Steven's scrawny throat and squeeze. _Hard._

          "Hey, kid!" Steven calls, his jaw set firmly. Ten's smile drops. So does Johnny's heart.

          Ten shoots Daniel an inquisitive look, his brow creased and muscles coiled tight. _He must know what's coming,_ Johnny realizes with a twinge of regret.

          "So your name's Ten, huh?" Daniel begins, and without missing a beat, he emits a mocking guffaw. Johnny supposes they're used to evoking negative emotions in people. They know exactly what buttons to push. "It sounds like your mother must really hate you-"

          "That's nice."

          Johnny frowns. Scanning Ten's features, he encounters no trace of the sweet smile from before, nor does he spy so much as a hint of the boy's previous adorable confusion. All he comes across is a face set in stone. Ten's thin lips are stretched into a tight line, and his eyes are guarded, jaw clenched with an aggression Johnny never expected to see from him.

          "What?" Steven appears fairly taken aback by Ten's sudden one-eighty. Johnny notices a slight satisfaction tingling in his chest. _Good. Let him be scared for once._

          Steven is quick to shake off whatever shock had gripped him just moments before, and takes a heavy step toward Ten. Ten doesn't shuffle backward, and _damn_ , Johnny's impressed. No one ever allows Steven so close, be it due to fear or the undeniable hideousness of his face. True, Ten appears more than a little repelled by his close proximity, but the kid's holding his ground. That's more than Johnny can say for any of his friends' previous victims.

          Clearly not expecting a second surge of courage on Ten's behalf, Steven remains rigid. Johnny can see the insecurity veiling his friend's eyes from his position by the lockers. Uncertainty, hesitation. All things Johnny would never have dreamed of spotting in such a wretched person.

          Daniel, on the other hand, seems entirely unfazed. With several immediate strides toward the pair, he comes to a halt just behind Steven, looming over Ten with a condescending sneer. Daniel's presence is all the fortification Steven needs. Within a matter of seconds he's spitting slighting words in Ten's face.

          Ten's irritated expression gradually fades away, and for a moment Johnny fears his friends may have actually gotten to him. Their actions are beyond what Johnny considers morally decent. He's met with yet another pleasant surprise as a disparaging smile curls the corners of Ten's lips. There's an indifferent impression to his entire being, his posture relaxed, and he has the graciousness to allow them the time to conclude their verbal attack.

          Then, his middle finger goes up, and he offers them an affable wink before proceeding down the hallway.

          While Daniel and Steven are incandescent with rage, Johnny is giddy with excitement. Ten no longer seems like a nuisance, nor does he seem like a helpless child. His actions were bold, his smile so _sure._ Ten's pretty damn badass, and Johnny's in awe.

 

 

 

 

          Thursday, May 14th, 2009

 

          There's a delicate aura to the scene surrounding him, an almost fragile sense about it. Johnny feels like if he were to reach out and touch a single thing, it would shatter beneath the cautious glide of his fingertips.

          The sky outside is streaked with shades of rose and gold, a hint of deep sapphire fading through. It casts a soft, pink glow into the room, faint smudges of shadow settling lazily here and there. It's absolutely ethereal, Johnny thinks as he drinks it all in. Something about the serenity of the moment causes his heart to swell.

          Everything would be absolutely ideal if not for the heavy textbooks scattered across his bed.

          Blowing out a lethargic sigh, Johnny returns his attention to the notebook propped up on the pillow before him. A pleasant warmth presses into his side and Johnny briefly glances away from his work, a fond smile swelling on his lips at the sight of a head of dyed hair buried in the mattress.

          He and Ten became close a little under a month ago. It had only taken a span of two weeks for them to take their friendship outside of school. A week later, they were practically inseparable.

          The very same day Ten had done the unthinkable, Johnny did something fairly incredible as well. He'd derived a tiny seed of courage from Ten's gallant actions and fostered it with care until it finally spread through his entire being. It was then that he'd made possibly the wisest decision he'd made in his entire fourteen years of living: He'd ditched Daniel and Steven.

          Ten's bravery has caused quite the chain reaction amongst the student body, and while Daniel and Steven still lurk about and give rise to problems every now and then, Johnny's mostly over the drama. He's also secretly pleased because they don't pester Ten anymore, and honestly, that's what he cares about most.

          "I don't understand any of this shit," Ten grouses, voice muffled by the bed. Johnny's gaze flickers to Ten's worksheet. The stark contrast between his and Ten's is astounding; while Johnny is nearing the final question, Ten is stuck on the third, his paper marred with poorly erased answers and miniature doodles.

          "They're just fractions and decimals," Johnny points out with an arch of his eyebrow, eyes still scanning the length of Ten's marked-up sheet. He finds it peculiar how Ten manages to use up so much pencil lead yet still remain at the beginning. "Don't you know how to convert?"

          The blank look he receives in return is enough to confirm his suspicions.

          Johnny gives a despondent groan and wrests the textbook from Ten's loose grasp, tossing it to the floor and sweeping the others off after it. He winces at the dull thud given off by each book as it crashes to the carpet. His mother certainly won't be pleased.

          "Got it." Resting his palm on the small of Ten's back, Johnny begins to lightly knead the muscle there, offering the boy a heartening smile. "We can always forget about homework for now. There are other things we could be doing."

          "Like?" Ten raises a questioning eyebrow. His fingers are idly pinching and fiddling with Johnny's own, and Johnny can't help but to find the actions rather captivating. The gentle press of Ten's small hands sets his skin ablaze, and his almost inaudible hum has Johnny's heart hammering viciously against his ribcage. Johnny is uncertain of precisely when his body began reacting this way to Ten's thrilling touches. He only knows it's happening, and that he holds no desire for it to stop.

          Chewing the inside of his cheek, Johnny's gaze drifts aimlessly past Ten, landing on the far wall. He drums his fingers on the back of Ten's hand.

          "How does a movie sound?" he murmurs finally, his eyes finding Ten's once again. Johnny is already aware of Ten's response before he gives it; the pleased glint brightening his eyes is all Johnny needs.

          "Sounds good to me," Ten agrees without hesitation. Offering a hand for Johnny to take, which he graciously accepts, Ten clambers from Johnny's mattress and slips off the edge of the bed. Johnny notes with adoration how Ten's feet hover several inches from the ground before he drops to the floor. Then, they scurry from the room, fingers loosely interlaced. Johnny tries to disregard the way his pulse quickens.

 

 

 

 

          Friday, June 19th, 2009

 

          "I'm gonna miss you." This is the third time Ten has uttered those words in the past half hour. He's noticeably bothered by something, although Johnny isn't sure what. The doleful gloom surrounding him is beginning to concern Johnny.

          Eyes focused downward on the tops of Ten's dark Converse, Johnny lets out a low, drawn out hum of agreement, his concerns dying on the tip of his tongue. He can't exactly express his distress to Ten, not with such a stifling veil of gloom draping over them. Fearing he'll worsen the mood, he remains silent, save for the occasional sigh or awkward clearing of his throat.

          Johnny is going to miss Ten too. Fuck, he's going to miss him so much.

          High school isn't a subject they've dwelled on much in their two months of friendship, preferring to drift about lighter, less depressing topics. Hearts tend to hurt less when the pain isn't addressed. At least, that's what Johnny has been taught.

          Instead of dreading the inevitable heaps of homework or the unwanted assimilation of students proceeding from their respective schools, Johnny is only bothered by one thought: What will become of him and Ten? He's heard all the horrific tales of best friends parting ways as high school season rolls around, but is it true? And does it deteriorate every friendship? Johnny's head aches almost as much as his heart.

          "You're not going to replace me, right?" Ten mumbles suddenly, turning his head to send Johnny an uneasy glance. Johnny can see the pain reflecting in Ten's dark eyes. His posture is hunched and self-conscious, his skin surprisingly ashen, and Johnny notices how he twitches and shifts uncomfortably every now and then. Ten has never seemed like the type of kid to be outwardly upset. The mere fact he's so physically affected by the topic proves it isn't something to be taken lightly.

          Of course, Johnny never intended to do so. It's going to be difficult to maintain a closeness of their extreme when they'll only be able to see each other on weekends, and even those may be too crammed with homework and studying for them to meet up. With Ten moving into eighth grade and Johnny all the way up into high school, things are undoubtedly going to grow worse.

          "I promise," Johnny confirms after several heavy beats of silence. "No matter what happens, you'll always be my favourite."

          The elated smile Ten responds with is absolutely beautiful.

          Perhaps he can sense the uncertainty of Johnny's assurance. Maybe it's a little too obvious. But he smiles all the same, his soft hands resting atop Johnny's larger ones, and Johnny's cheeks are beginning to hurt.

_Yeah,_ he thinks. _We'll be just fine._

 

 

 

          The embrace Johnny is caught in feels more possessive than friendly. Ten's fingers are fiercely pressed into his ribcage and his short arms are wound around Johnny's torso with the grip of a lion's jaws, his chin digging into Johnny's shoulder. While ever so slightly painful, everything about the hug is so delightful, so _Ten,_ and Johnny wishes for nothing more than to remain in his arms forever.

          "Hey, Ten?" Johnny murmurs against the top of Ten's head. He's answered with a soft hum. "Love you."

          Heaving a contented sigh, Ten nuzzles even deeper into Johnny's shoulder, the sweet curve of his smile brushing over Johnny's skin. It must appear rather intimate to anyone passing by, but Johnny knows Ten. He's always had difficulties expressing his feelings through words, so he makes them known through actions instead, the gentle drag of fingers over the back of Johnny's hand or the discreet arm hooked around his waist never going unnoticed. Each and every touch holds a piece of Ten, and Johnny gathers each one.

          "Love you too," Ten whispers into the crook of his neck, hands fisted in the back of Johnny's black shirt. It's an unspoken rule between the two to never say 'I' at the beginning, although Johnny truthfully doesn't understand why. ("That's for couples only," Ten had once insisted).

          Johnny is pried away from Ten several minutes later, one of Johnny's close friends dragging him off at the unwelcome sounding of the bell, but he doesn't hesitate to madly wave at Ten until he's dragged around the corner and the wall blocks him from view.

 

 

 

 

          Sunday, September 6th, 2009

 

          Johnny is propped up against a tree, the rough bark prickling at his back through the thin cotton of his shirt. Although autumn is nearing and the edges of the crisp green leaves are fading to warm oranges and reds, the day is scorching, the air still and humid.

          Exhaling slowly through his nose, Johnny turns his head toward Ten, a fond smile creeping onto his lips. Ten is curled up on the grass, calmly pinching each blade between his thumb and forefinger as he gazes out across the vast expanse of the park. Johnny settles beside him and does the same.

          The park is fairly uninhabited, most likely due to the stifling heat, but it's much nicer this way, Johnny thinks. There's no one around to shoot them disapproving glares, and there's hardly a child in sight. It's probably for the best. Although Johnny has always been great with kids, Ten seems to have an innate distrust for them, his movements growing fidgety in their presence.

          Johnny knew he was fucked the day he'd found out, because _hell, another stupid reason to love him more._

          "Johnny, do you have any idea how we're going to see each other once school starts?" Ten mumbles suddenly. The idea has never run through Johnny's head, but now that he thinks about it, he isn't sure. They've already agreed that weekends may not always be doable, and school nights are out of the question. Ten's mom would throw a fit.

          "Not really, no." Carding his fingers through the dyed strands of Ten's hair, Johnny pauses, tenderly dragging his thumb over Ten's cheek. This catches his attention. "But I'll think of something," Johnny sighs, his words sounding more akin to feeble hope than a promise. No matter what either of them do, they won't be seeing each other often from now on, not for the next year. It's going to be difficult.

          Ten doesn't speak. He merely gives a slight nod, shuffling an inch or so away from Johnny, and it suddenly feels as if there's an impossibly giant, gaping chasm between them. Johnny's stomach drops, his lungs curling like sheets of wet parchment. Johnny felt breathless before, but now he's surely suffocating. Their friendship means more to both of them than they'll admit. Johnny knows this for certain.

          "Ten," he breathes after a stretch of uncomfortable silence, "quit being such a jerk. We'll figure something out."

          The indiscreet glance Ten sends his way doesn't go unnoticed, nor does the mildly apologetic way in which he slides back beside Johnny after a moment's hesitation. His hands are clenched firmly in his lap, for what reason Johnny isn't aware of. It just seems to be something Ten does when nervous.

          "I know," Ten sighs eventually. And then he's throwing his arms around Johnny in a desperate squeeze, and Johnny's caught off guard by yet another one of his cathartic outbursts. There almost seems to be a therapeutic satisfaction for Ten earned only by scaring the living shit out of Johnny.

          The embrace is more sticky than anything, and there's a slight itch of repulsion in the beat of his heart. However, Johnny relishes in it, attempting to let slip the sudden realization that they're both walking heaters and it's certainly _not_ helping him out. Not in the slightest.

          "I'm bi," Johnny admits quietly, his face still pressed into Ten's hair. He can feel the warmth of Ten's breath hitting his neck as a startled chuckle slips from him. Jonnny doesn't blame him.

          "That came out of nowhere," he snorts, lifting his head from its perch on Johnny's shoulder to grin up at him. Johnny has to agree. "But that's cool. You always seemed really fucking straight though."

           The last few words catch Johnny by surprise.

           "I did?" Johnny's truthfully never considered how he appears in the eyes of his peers. At least, not since his friendship with Daniel and Steven had come to an abrupt halt. The entirety of his attention has been focused on Ten as of late, completely, entirely on Ten. He hasn't exactly had the time to worry over something as petty as his image. He supposes if he seems straight then it doesn't matter. No one cares if he's in love with the opposite sex. It's anything else that would draw unwanted attention.

          "Yeah," Ten confirms with a brief nod. "But hey, as I said, it's cool. I'm glad you told me, just..." He grins that faultless grin of his, lined eyes crinkling softly, and jabs Johnny's chest. "That was some random timing, Johnny. Random as hell." The pads of his fingers dragging over Johnny's shoulder, Ten emits a nearly inaudible snort. "You're so weird. I'm glad you're my friend."

          "Same to you, little guy," Johnny replies, blatantly ignoring the half-hearted glare he receives from Ten. "Love you."

 

 

 

 

          Monday, September 7th, 2010

 

_It's less frightening the second time,_ Johnny decides as he scans the cafeteria. He's not  searching for the hell of it, although he figures it'd be less stressful if he was. When his eyes fail to pick up a vibrantly dyed head of hair, he gives a low grunt of displeasure, brow creasing deeply. It shouldn't be too hard to spot someone as unique as Ten. Even if Johnny hadn't seen Ten enter the school, he certainly would have felt it, Ten's ego overpowering at the best of times.

          Sure, they'd hung out during the previous school year. There had been several more weekends than expected for them to screw around and be teenagers. But Ten's family had taken an unannounced trip to Thailand for the summer, and Ten hadn't called. Not once. Johnny hasn't uttered a word to him in three months, save for the occasional goodnight text hastily sent in the middle of the afternoon. Johnny doesn't count those, though.

          It's the painful prod of a finger into his side that causes him to whip around.

          "Hey there, fucker."

          Johnny opens his mouth to shoot back a witty reply, but he stiffens with shock, jaw awkwardly hanging open and eyes wide. It's definitely Ten, but not as Johnny remembers him. Not by a long shot. Instead of being greeted by the same unnatural hair, he's faced with adorably, albeit mildly disappointingly, black hair, the soft strands hanging in Ten's bright eyes. Ten is more tanned than Johnny remembers, but Johnny holds the Thai sun accountable for that. Johnny is vaguely surprised to note the piercings riddling Ten's ears, and he finds himself admiring them for a moment before glancing back at his face. Aside from that, Ten's recognizable, his childish smile and perfectly straight teeth still making Johnny's hormones go wild.

_Oh hell yes._

          "Wash your mouth out with soap, dipshit," Johnny retorts. They stare at each other for a few moments, each trying to hungrily drink in the other before pressing flush together, arms entangled in a crushing hug. Johnny feels the muffled yelp into his shoulder before he hears it, and it's then that he realizes Ten's legs are flailing wildly, and inches off the ground. _Whoops._

          "Who's that, Johnny? Your boyfriend?"

          Ten is tumbling to the tiled floor in a matter of seconds, landing ungracefully on his ass. There's a loud bark of laughter and Johnny is already aware of who it is, yet he finds himself spinning around to check anyway.

          "Go to hell Yuta, oh my god," he huffs, arms folded defensively over his chest. He can almost feel Ten's curious gaze burning into his back.

          An inconspicuous cough sounds to the left of Yuta. A tall, broad boy with sandy hair and large eyes is standing quietly to the side. It seems as if he's discreetly nudging Yuta, probably in a failed attempt at getting him to lower his voice. Johnny recognizes the face instantly.

          "Hansol!" His attention is drawn to two other familiar boys flanking the duo. "Taeil, Taeyong!" By this point, Ten's questioning glare is laser-focused, the skin on Johnny's back suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot. He's aware he should be explaining everything to his friend, perhaps even introducing him to the others, but he isn't entirely sure what to say.

          Thankfully, Yuta speaks for him. It's nothing unusual.

          "We're his friends," Yuta states not unkindly as he crouches down to settle beside Ten, his hand resting on Ten's shoulder. He seems to have always had a habit of touching strangers, which Johnny supposes is fine, but he doesn't know how Ten will take it. Ten is all that matters, after all.

          "We met him in the first GSA meeting last autumn," Taeyong continues. Ten's furrowed brow relaxes slightly, but his expression is still a mask of vague confusion, lower lip caught between his teeth. "Gay-Straight Alliance," Taeyong quickly adds, picking up on Ten's bafflement. "It's a club where LGBTQ plus students can go to discuss problems and the like."

          Comprehension finally dawns on Ten's soft features, his lips forming a gentle 'o' of understanding. Then he's leaping to his feet, slim fingers clenching around Johnny's wrist, and dragging him off toward the bathroom. Johnny's briefly entertained by the thought of Ten not actually realizing where he's going. However, instead of stepping through the door, Ten comes to a gradual halt off to the side of the hallway, his mien frighteningly serious.

          "I thought you said you wouldn't replace me," he hisses, voice lowered for the sake of privacy. "Scratch that. You _promised._ You can't break a promise, Johnny, you dick." Ten's stare is rigid, his focus unwavering, but Johnny notices a well-concealed hurt in amongst the fury, his eyes holding a faint sense of betrayal.

          "I didn't replace you, Ten." Johnny tentatively reaches out to place a reassuring hand on Ten's shoulder. He's expecting the comforting gesture to be harshly slapped away, but is pleasantly surprised to feel the fabric of Ten's shirt beneath his palm. "They're just friends. You mean more to me, and I know you know that."

          Resting his hand on top of Johnny's own, Ten purses his lips, gently fiddling with Johnny's fingers. Johnny smiles, Ten's familiar habit relaxing him slightly.

          "I know," Ten mumbles after nearly a minute of silence, his voice softer than before. Johnny's not used to this, and it triggers an almost paternal instinct from deep within him. Soon enough, Ten's cuddled close to his chest again, Ten carefully coiling his arms around Johnny's waist. "I just missed you, that's all."

          "I missed you too."

          It's strange to run his fingers through dark strands as oppose to coloured ones, but Johnny doesn't mind the change too much. It's still Ten, after all. No matter what he does, Johnny doesn't speak out, doesn't dare say a thing, the only words willingly slipping from his lips praise when it comes to the boy.

          Regardless of what Ten may think, he'll always be Johnny's favourite. It's impossible for things to be any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't even know how this happened-  
> either way, i enjoyed writing this. future chapters may (or may not whoops) be out soon, i'm bad at motivating myself.  
> this one was more middle school but i promise there'll be more high school in the later chapters!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading! I appreciate the support, and your comments have been keeping me going. <3

Monday, September 10th, 2012

 

Johnny has always hated Mondays. Especially this one. Glancing around at the sagged, gloomy expressions of all his classmates, he's pretty sure they all feel the same way. The first day of school is always unpleasant, but today seems to be more so than usual, the shadowy smudges beneath everyone's eyes and their hunched postures telling telltale of a rough night. Johnny has a grave feeling today is going to be a long day.

It's first period, but to Johnny, it seems like it's been hours since he'd first collapsed into his seat at the back of the classroom, the sleek hand of the clock ticking insufferably slow. Slumping back against his chair, he breathes a fatigued sigh. All he wants to do is see Ten.

Minutes later, Johnny jolts from his seat. He elbows his way through the chattering throng, the sharp ringing of the bell shrieking above the collective noise. Perhaps if he's fortunate enough, he'll be the first to arrive at their meeting spot by the vending machines. It won't be complete hell if he isn't, but Yuta has a habit of glossing over every interesting topic before Johnny can stumble in between Ten and Taeyong, and nobody ever cares to fill him in.

Fortunately, Johnny skids to a halt earlier than usual. There isn't a single friend of his in sight. _Thank God,_ he thinks as he plucks his phone from his back pocket.

"Johnny!"

Johnny spins on his heel and is greeted by Ten's gorgeous, beaming face, the slight bounce in his step as he jogs over doing nothing but giving him palpitations. Sliding a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes, Johnny sends him a flustered grin in return, clumsily hoisting the strap of his bag over his shoulder as it begins to slip off.

Ten is clasped securely to him within seconds, cheek pressed to Johnny's shoulder and arms twisted firmly around his waist. Johnny nearly chokes. Although he's received many of these aggressive embraces, he can't seem to grow used to them. Ten's grip is fierce for a guy of his small stature. Johnny can almost feel the splotchy bruises blossoming beneath his skin.

"Holy shit, I missed you so much," he breathes softly, nose nuzzled against the dip of Ten's temple. "You have no idea." From this close, Johnny can detect the familiar scent of Ten's shampoo; it's brown sugar and apple and cinnamon, and so exquisitely divine that Johnny has a difficult time willing back his tears. He feels pathetic. His feelings for Ten have only swelled immeasurably over the past year, to the point where so much as the simple thought of the boy has the ability to resurface a bittersweet longing so intense it's nearly unbearable.

In short, Johnny is whipped.

"I missed you more!" gushes a saccharine voice from behind, and Johnny reluctantly raises his head. Of course, it's Yuta. That much is obvious. Everything unfortunate is always Yuta. Ever since Ten entered high school, Yuta had taken it upon himself to intrude upon every precious moment Johnny and Ten shared, all the way from the first day up until now. Chewing the inside of his lip, Johnny raises his eyebrows disbelievingly. He can only hope his irritation isn't too poorly disguised.

"Get out, Yuta. We're busy here," he snaps. Judging by the complacent smirk Yuta's sending him, he doesn't plan on obeying. _Little bitch._

"I'll be here if I want to be here, John Seo." Forcing an arm between Johnny and the familiar body pressing against him, Yuta comfortably situates himself in the middle, clearly for the sole purpose of being irritating. _It's what he does best,_ Johnny notes with a twinge of exasperation.

Johnny keeps his fingers curled loosely around Ten's slim wrist and purses his lips tightly as he attempts to stare Yuta down. His demeanour gradually slackens until he's huffing out a dragging groan of capitulation, lifting a hand to ruffle Yuta's dark hair. "Fine, be a stubborn asshole. Just don't interrupt us next time," Johnny warns without any legitimate threat harshening his tone.

"Deal." The curt nod of Yuta's head is at least sincere, his response remarkably candid for a person as nosy as himself. Johnny finds he doesn't particularly mind. Any honest agreement from Yuta is wholly gratifying in Johnny's eyes.

Offering Ten an apologetic grin as Yuta finally removes himself from between the two, he shuffles a step or two forward, the pleasure of finally earning a chance to talk to his best friend taking the edge off the strain his bag is forcing on his shoulders. He's aware that of all his new friends, Yuta is the only one Ten hasn't befriended yet. Johnny isn't certain of the reason why. Personality wise, they're both incredibly boisterous, energetic guys with a blatant habit of petting and prodding whatever living thing has the fortune (or misfortune, depending on which one it is) of being in their presence. The pair simply _not_ hanging off each other after all this time is a troubling concept to Johnny.

Regardless, Ten is on agreeable terms with the rest of Johnny's group. Johnny supposes that's something to be thankful for.

"Is Yuta being annoying again?" Taeyong pokes his head out from behind said man, a perfectly-shaped eyebrow raised. "Because I can _definitely_ help you out with that." The unfamiliar eagerness lacing his tone is enough to drape Johnny's spine with ice. He can see a similar mask of terror on Yuta.

Ten's shoulders tremble with poorly suppressed snickers. "Ooh, someone's feeling dangerous today," he teases as his gaze flicks between Yuta and Taeyong. "Watch out, Yuta."

"I'm shaking in my boots," Yuta grumbles lowly, eyes rolling in such a fashion that Johnny nearly expects them to get stuck that way. And then Yuta is slinging an arm over Taeyong's slim shoulders, his childish grin returning (although Johnny never exactly _missed_ it), and forcibly drags Taeyong against his chest. "He wouldn't hurt me, Ten. He loves me."

"Do not," Taeyong huffs.

"You're in denial," Yuta retorts with a dismissive wave of his hand, keeping Taeyong securely held against him. The closeness is adamantly refused by Taeyong, who tries desperately to crawl away, but falls limp at the pitying smile Taeil sends his way.

"Don't fight him, Tae. It'll only make things worse," Taeil advises, reprimanding fingers tapping Taeyong's forehead. This, Johnny realizes with a twinge of indignation, rings true, despite the jovial tone in which Taeil had stated it. Yuta does have a penchant for pushing and prying until he has his way. While endearing in certain circumstances, it tends to grow dull after a while.

Ten idly fiddles with a piercing as he regards the scene unfolding before him with great amusement. "You'll be okay, so don't struggle. It'll all be over soon," he coos airily with a ginger prod of Taeyong's nose.

"Good boy." Yuta shoots Taeyong a satisfied grin. Taeyong isn't paying him any attention. Finally, Yuta releases him from under his arm. Taeyong hurriedly scrambles away, placing himself between Ten and Taeil. Taeil squeezes his elbow reassuringly.

Just as Johnny opens his mouth, the sharp sounding of the bell cuts him off. Ten hastily waves his goodbyes before scurrying away to his next class.

_Damn._

 

 

 

 

Friday, September 14th, 2012

 

Ten is gradually fading from Johnny's mornings, his giddy smile as he's collected in Johnny's eager embrace gradually dwindling into a rarity. Ten is slipping away.

It's not like Johnny never sees Ten. Ten is always there during lunch, constantly settles down beside him during English, but Johnny can't seem to get him alone.

Ten's absence feels like a puncture wound, fracturing it irreparably; his soul bleeds for Ten, breaks for him, but perhaps he's just being dramatic. After all, Ten is still around. He just isn't around _Johnny_ as often as he used to be, and maybe Johnny is beginning to regret introducing him to his friends.

It hurts.

 

 

 

 

Saturday, September 15th, 2012

 

This is the third round of Mario Kart Ten has lost to Johnny, and Johnny can tell from the high-strung way in which Ten is shifting on the seat beside him that it won't be the last. Johnny has played Ten in a manner similar to this before. With each game lost, Ten's confidence steadily deteriorates, and as that happens, as does his control of the remote. It's the one opportunity Johnny has to temporarily ruin Ten's ego without being forced to deal with the inevitable pangs of guilt afterwards. They may only be playing on a cheap, secondhand Wii, but to the two of them, it's not a game. It's _war._

Except this round is rapidly adjusting to better suit Ten, for his Toad is trailing Johnny's Luigi at an unsettling proximity, occasionally even inching ahead of him. Johnny is sweating bullets, stifling a groan against the back of his hand _._  Ten slips to first place. This game is Johnny's forte, his damn _pride_ for goodness' sake. No way is he going to let it slide.

And then Luigi is speeding far ahead of Toad and Johnny is cheering a profusion of self-praise, the grin taking over his lips threatening to split his face in half. That is, until a black socked toe nudges the controller from his grip.

_Fuck._

Luigi suddenly halts to the left of the track, remaining stupidly frozen until Johnny manages to snatch up his controller clumsily from the floor. However, it's too late. Toad has already completed his third lap. Johnny's gaze flickers down to the corner of the screen, only to spot a glaring twelve leering back at him. He's last.

"Dude, what the hell?" Johnny grouses immediately, gripping Ten by the ankle and giving his leg a vigorous shake to rouse him from his phone-induced stupor. Johnny can't recall him even picking up the device. Without so much as a blink of acknowledgement, Ten's stare remains glued to the fingerprint-smudged screen, thumbs tapping away and a goofy smile curling the corners of his lips. "Ten-"

"Shut up for a second," Ten mumbles. Now that Johnny thinks about it, Ten has been religiously checking his phone as of late. There's a vague curiosity stirring within him, but he remains silent, impatiently snatching Ten's phone from his busy hands. This seems to grab his attention. "Give it back! Johnny, c'mon, I'm busy!"

"Not until you explain _why,_ exactly, you felt the need to cheat."

Ten's eyes narrow. "You were getting cocky," is all he says before holding his hand out expectantly, the beginnings of a pout jutting his bottom lip. Johnny's heart skips a beat. He's unsure of whether it's from fear or pure adoration. It's evident Ten intends to _cute_ the phone back into his spoiled grasp, and Johnny has always been weak to Ten's cute. So instead of sitting rigidly on the edge of the couch, he settles for the single move he's certain will throw Ten off.

It's clear Ten can sense it coming. His eyes widen and he hurriedly shuffles backward, swallowing thickly while hissing, "Johnny, don't you dare, don't you _fucking_ dare, _stop-_ "

And then Johnny is attacking Ten's sides with tickles, the corners of his lips lifting with pure glee, a playful malevolence to the way he cackles.

Ten, on the other hand, seems to be having noticeably less fun. He's thrashing and squirming, hands grappling at Johnny's in a futile attempt at forcing them away from his writhing body, unattractive shrieks of laughter escaping him in staccato bursts.

Johnny grins widely, tongue caught between his teeth as he grabs and prods at Ten's stomach, manhandling him and nearly tumbling off the edge of the couch in the midst of his excitement. The fear of getting scolded by Ten's parents for all the racket briefly unsettles him, but it's gone in an instant, replaced by the dizzying giddiness of having his hands on Ten. Ten is cussing him out rather dirtily now, brutal insults and unnecessary stabs at his mother. Persistently, Johnny keeps it up for a little while longer until he's slightly out of breath. He notes with more than a hint of satisfaction that his light panting is nothing compared to Ten's desperate gasps for air, his cheeks flushed a gentle rose.

"You're awful," Ten breathes shakily, his hand clutching the front of his sweater. "I can't believe you did that." The genuine upward curving of his lips contrasts immensely with his words, so Johnny brushes off the short-lived panic that had been tightening his throat just moments before. He pinches Ten's earlobe, careful to not drag any of the metal jewellery studding the delicate skin.

"And you're a dork," Johnny retorts, voice rich with mirth and eyes crinkled warmly. He's still hovering over Ten as they both try to regulate their breathing. Chests rising and falling as they suck in heavy breaths, Johnny flattens his palm against the curve of Ten's knee, offering him a half-hearted apology. He narrowly avoids the foot attempting to lodge itself in his stomach. "Rude, Ten. You're so violent."

"Whoops." Ten gifts him a falsely salacious wink and stretches his legs over Johnny's thighs, a familiar smugness to the curl of his lips that evokes a powerful urge in Johnny, an urge to either viciously flick his forehead or sweetly pinch the tiny pockets of baby fat cushioning his cheeks. Ten's cockiness has grown on him, for better or for worse he isn't sure of yet. Johnny knows full well that if Ten was to rub one of his many victories in his face, he wouldn't mind at all. Not one bit.

Over the course of the past two years, Ten's eroded a place in Johnny's life, a permanent home in his heart. Nothing would be the same without him. Still, Johnny prefers to not dwell on the thought. Ten will always be there beside him, sticking to him like glue through every tedious twist and turn in Johnny's unsurprisingly monotonous life.

"Johnny, are you zoning out again?"

When Johnny's forcibly snapped from his thoughts, he spots a thoroughly amused Ten laying against the arm of the couch, casting him a curious look.

"Maybe," Johnny admits with a wry smile. Leaning forward to prop himself up on one arm beside Ten, he plucks absently at the shoulder of Ten's dark sweater, attention focused on the unmarred, alluring stretch of sun-kissed skin sloping before him. He's drinking it all in, admiring it, until Ten's forefinger presses into his cheek to draw his attention back to the present moment.

"Is there something wrong?" Ten has a knowing glint in his eyes, a corner of his lips quirked up in evident amusement, brow arching in a way that drives Johnny insane. It's dawned on Johnny by now that Ten, while clearly unaware of Johnny's intense feelings for him, has caught on to his slightly more _devious_  wishes, and Johnny isn't entirely sure how to deal with that. It's thrilling, yet petrifying at the same time, especially since he hasn't shown much acknowledgment aside from the occasional smirk whenever it's apparent Johnny's thinking _thoughts_. It's kind of unfair.

"Just shut up and give me a hug," Johnny grumbles as he scoops Ten into his arms, rolling lazily onto his stomach and trapping Ten underneath him. Ten doesn't show any resentment to their uncomfortable position, so Johnny doesn't stop, his nose nestled in Ten's silky hair.

"You're turning into such a cuddle monster, oh my god," Ten breathlessly snorts into Johnny's neck. Johnny answers with a sly grin and pinches Ten's bicep in empty warning, pressing an entirely platonic (at least, that's what Johnny lets Ten think) kiss to his forehead.

"That's because you haven't been giving me enough attention." The words come out masked with lightheartedness, but to Johnny, they're fully significant, possibly even perilous. Maybe his heart is racing faster than it should be. Maybe he's combating the urge to cry. Saying it out loud gives it that much more reality, but he smiles anyway, relishing in the fond chuckle his feigned playfulness elicits.

"Sorry, Johnny," Ten mumbles earnestly, grip tightening on the back of Johnny's shirt. Johnny's beginning to fear he made his concerns too obvious. "I've been busy with clubs and stuff. You know how that shit works."

"Mhm." Johnny's settled on his side now, curled around Ten in a manner more protective than he'll admit, but it's a lot more pleasant this way, Ten's comforting scent no longer choking him up and toying with his mind. "It's fine. Just don't forget about me, you little piece of shit."

"I'd never!" Ten's gasp is melodramatic, a hint of his overjoyed smile peeking through, the hand clasped to his chest only a prop to add to his teasing. It's all so comical, and Johnny kind of wants to laugh and break out in ugly, unconstrained tears at the same time. Ten's just too fucking adorable. And unattainable, but Johnny's working on being positive.

"Fuck you, Ten. Fuck you." Johnny clamps his hand over Ten's mouth before Ten can utter the overfamiliar 'you wish', nose wrinkling in vague revulsion as Ten's hot tongue prods at the palm of his hand. "Don't be so nasty," Johnny grumbles as he recoils from the undesired wetness.

"That's mean!" Ten's eyes are narrowed playfully, hands pushing at Johnny's shoulders in an unsuccessful attempt at removing himself from Johnny's secure embrace. Huffing out a conceding groan, he flips Johnny the bird, instead pressing closer.

"I don't care." Johnny's fingers are tingling from where they're pressed into Ten's back, and he feels so _warm_ , Ten's smaller body producing abundant amounts of heat. It'd be unwelcome during the summer, but Johnny finds it rather relaxing with the chilly autumn breeze gusting outside the window.

Ten's phone remains forgotten on the floor. Johnny wants it to stay that way.

 

 

 

 

Monday, September 17th, 2012

 

"I'm gonna sign up for the DVA. You should come with me."

It's Monday afternoon, and Johnny's pleasantly surprised to find Ten leaning against his locker as the shrill bell signals the beginning of lunch. This being the first instance in a long time in which _Ten's_ spoken to _him_ first, Johnny's rather hopeful. Things might go better today.

Johnny had been expecting Ten to feel drawn toward this specific club. Ever since ninth grade, he'd been lingering around the tech lab like an abandoned puppy, much to Johnny's amusement. It almost seemed as if Ten felt he'd been unfairly excluded. The DVA team has only permitted eleventh and twelfth graders for as long as Johnny's been at the school, so this is the first year Ten's actually qualified to join. It's no surprise he leaps on the opportunity the instant it's mentioned on the morning announcements.

"You are?" Johnny feigns surprise. Allowing Ten to lead the way, he keeps his index finger hooked in the loop on the back of Ten's bag, fearing being separated from him by the jostling crowd. It's not like he'd be unnoticeable; he towers above a large portion of the students. It's locating Ten that would prove to be challenging. Even now, Ten's darting around giants, his head around shoulder-level at best. It wouldn't take much for him to wind up on the floor.

"Duh," Ten snorts, nose so high up in the air Johnny almost wants him to suffocate. He mentally berates himself for the thought as Ten continues, "I'm a hands-on guy, if you get what I'm saying." Eyebrows shooting up, he slows to a halt, shooting Johnny a suspicious glare. "Not in whatever dirty way you're thinking of. Although I could be that too."

All Johnny can focus on is the way Ten's piercings glint in the artificial lighting.

"Mhm," he mumbles dumbly, not realizing Ten's begun moving again until he's several steps ahead. Johnny takes a few hurried strides forward and reattaches himself to Ten's back.

After an exhausting struggle to push their way to the sign up sheet (Johnny silently thanks his height for dealing with the possibly nasty parts), Ten swipes the pen from a redheaded boy in the process of filling out the margin with his name. There's a shocked grumble of irritation from the boy, but not much reaction aside from that. Ten neatly scribbles his name in the space beneath with precise skill, and Johnny briefly wonders how Ten's handwriting can be so neat, even when he's in a hurry.

"Are you done yet?"

Johnny and Ten simultaneously turn their heads. The redhead's finally spoken up. _Took him long enough,_ Johnny thinks wryly. But then he leans a little closer, eyes narrowing into slits, and _holy shit._

"Daniel?" Johnny murmurs softly, staring into a freckled face twisted with vague recognition. His name's sounding on those familiarly unattractive lips, and Johnny's fears are confirmed.

He'll admit it's more than a little awkward to bump into the guy he'd so adamantly avoided. In fact, it's mortifying. But Daniel isn't letting slip any signs of discomfort, so Johnny remains as stoic as possible, only a slight downward twitch of his lips fragmenting his otherwise icy front as Daniel casts Ten a curious gaze before inquisitively glancing back to Johnny. It's almost as if he's questioning who he's with. _And who I replaced him with, Johnny thinks bitterly._

Exhaling carefully, Johnny's attention flickers to Ten. He appears equally as uncomfortable as Johnny himself. Now that Johnny thinks about it, it's entirely possible that Daniel doesn't recognize Ten, doesn't spy any semblance to the boy he used to whisper about over the cafeteria table. While the images Daniel may have branded in his mind are of distinctly red and black hair, and scrawny legs matched with arms the width of toothpicks, that's not the appearance Ten holds anymore. What with his dark hair, lined eyes, and pierced ears, (it also dawns on Johnny that Ten's _definitely_ filled out in all the right places), he doesn't bear a shadow of what he once was.

"Ten," Johnny murmurs suddenly, satisfaction melting a little of the tension in his shoulders as he's greeted with Daniel's impossibly wide eyes.

"The Thai kid?" Daniel's body is awkwardly taut as he scans Ten from head to toe. "Shit, man, I'm sorry-"

Ten gives a sly smile and a slight shake of his head. "It's fine. You didn't do much damage, anyway." Sliding over the sheet for the stage crew sign-ups (which Johnny recalls Ten's participated in since ninth grade), Ten jots his name down before straightening up and offering Daniel a playful wink. "Don't worry about it."

Although Daniel's visibly relaxed, he still appears a little tense. Johnny decides not to push it.

"Well, uh, it's been nice meeting you again," Daniel nervously chuckles as he glances everywhere but Johnny's eyes.

"Oh, bro, same to you." Johnny claps him on the shoulder with the hopes of evoking any flicker of relief in his dark gaze, and is pleased with what he finds. At least things seem to be patched up. "See you."

Ten weaves his arm through Johnny's, linking their elbows, and hauls him back through the bustling crowd, carefully pushing and pulling people aside to clear a path. _He may be short, but he certainly has an effective way of getting around,_ Johnny muses.

 

 

 

 

Sunday, September 30th, 2012

 

Johnny allows his eyes to flutter closed as he trails after Ten. He figures it probably isn't the smartest thing to do while walking down a road, as undisturbed as that road may be, but he can feel the gentle whisper of the breeze against his skin and it soothes his mind like nothing else. Everything about the chilly air raising the hairs on the back of his neck and the almost complete silence of the street stretching both ahead and behind of him bless Johnny with a sense of tranquility he hasn't been able to achieve in months. He's always enjoyed the simpler pleasures of life. It's just coming across them that's the issue.

Reluctantly opening his eyes as a thrilled _whoop_ echoes down the road, he glances ahead to spot Ten scrambling clumsily down a steep hill, and he hurries after him, a familiar affection warming his body against the early autumn chill.

"What are you doing?" Johnny calls, pausing atop the slope to watch Ten clamber to the bottom. In the blink of an eye, Ten's feet slide out from under him and he topples the rest of the way down, a shocked yelp ripping from his throat.

"Dude, careful!" Johnny manages between deafening cackles, doubled over with his hands on his knees.

If he's honest with himself, Johnny can't quite recall the last time they hung out like this. All he can dig up are vague recollections of he and Ten curling up on the grass together, or bleary images of Ten's fingers interlacing with his own as they peacefully made their way down to the latest movie in theatres.

Ten's leaping to his feet, dusting the sprinklings of mud from his jeans with a distasteful grimace. He indiscreetly casts Johnny a look to gauge his reaction. Johnny can tell that his side-splitting giggles are doing nothing to douse the blush burning on Ten's cheeks, but he can't find it in himself to stop, the sight of the ever-so-cool Ten skidding down a grassy hill still playing behind his eyes.

"Stop laughing! You're embarrassing me," Ten grouses flatly, his eyebrows drawn together. Chuckling as Ten stiffly smooths down a stray tuft of hair sticking out awkwardly from the side of his head, Johnny flashes him an unapologetic grin.

"Then maybe you should watch where you're going!" he retorts. He's admittedly a little nervous, the thought of sliding down the slope on his ass not appealing in the slightest. Not to mention he's cradling two cans of cream soda in his arms which would surely get shaken up on the tumble down.

"Just haul your fat ass down here, Johnny." Ten's sucking on his teeth in annoyance, arms folded over his chest. Johnny decides that maybe he _should_ go down. Pissing off Ten any further most likely won't end well for him.

So he trips and stumbles his way down, barely managing to keep his footing until he reaches the bottom. Ten's slow clapping, a mien of complete boredom and _It's about time_ lingering about him, opening his mouth to say something Johnny probably doesn't want to hear. He tosses Ten a soda in an attempt to shut him up.

 

 

 

 

Several minutes later, Johnny's settled down beside Ten on the narrow, mildewy bridge covering the stream, shifting in discomfort on the damp wood. Although it feels as if it'll give way beneath him, he's pleased to find that it's high enough above the stream to prevent his shoes from filling with icy water.

Johnny takes an insouciant sip from what's left of his cream soda.

"Hey, Johnny. What type of person do you like?"

It nearly sprays all over his lap.

"What?" Johnny charily dabs at his lips with the back of his wrist as he sucks in an unsteady breath, blowing it out slowly. "Oh. Uh, I guess I like people who like me back?" _Not true._

The answer's evidently insufficient to Ten, who's peering at Johnny with such rapt curiosity it's hard to focus. "Thanks for the specifics," Ten drawls wryly. Chewing irritably on the inside of his lip, Johnny grunts.

"Fine," he snaps. "I'd like to date a person who has a good sense of humour and smoking hot looks, so clearly not _you_." The bite in his tone is unintentional, but it lands its mark all the same, Ten's teasing grin faltering as his hands grip the edge of the wood beneath his palms. Johnny notices his knuckles bleaching of colour. Eager to change the subject, Johnny fires back, "What about you, then, if you're so curious?"

Ten's expression takes on a thoughtful look, umber eyes pointed up toward the rose-tinted sky. "Maybe someone who seems cool at first glance, but has a heart of gold? That sort of thing?" He gives a nervous chuckle and rubs his nape. "I don't know."

Johnny remains silent. Although Ten grazed over his reply, it's obvious he's put a lot of thought into it. Either that, or he's found someone special to inspire such an uncommon reply. Then again, Johnny muses, no one ever really gives an honest answer. Most people simply state what they expect others would like to hear.

"D'you want to go inside?" he offers finally, turning all his attention on Ten. He winces as Ten crushes his empty can in his fist and tosses it into the stream. _Litterbug,_ he thinks with a hint of agitation. It's definitely a habit Ten needs to quit.

"Sure."

Releasing a shaky breath, Johnny follows suit and casts his can into the gently bubbling stream below. It lands with a soft _splash._

 

 

 

 

Johnny's house is overpoweringly redolent of smoke and garlic. He knows his mother's been smoking again; he can smell it, the sharp scent thick in the air. Watching Ten's nose crinkle in undisguised repugnance, Johnny hurriedly drags him down into the basement, praying that the harsh aroma is less apparent. Ten's always had an overt dislike for smoking, and Johnny's thankful he's been lenient toward his mother.

"Do you like Yuta?" Ten inquires suddenly, and Johnny's mildly taken aback. It strikes him as odd that Ten decides to ask him such a thing, especially when they haven't caught so much as a fleeting glimpse of the boy for two days straight.

"Yeah, sure. He's a little annoying, but he's a cool guy," Johnny replies. If he's entirely sincere, Yuta's probably his second favourite out of the gang, aside from Hansol. He has a habit of shoving his nose where it's not needed, but Johnny knows he has the best of intentions. At least, most of the time. Cautiously narrowing his eyes, Johnny casts Ten a pointed glare. "Why? Don't you?"

"Uh, yeah." Ten's answer is stated with a vague uncertainty, and it almost sounds as if he's posing a question, what with the way his tone lilts at the end.

 _Well that settles it, then._ Johnny finds himself sighing. _I've got myself an answer._

Johnny can see why Ten might not relish in Yuta's company. He's loud, forthright, and clingy, and he can't tell when he's crossed the line. But Johnny has no recollections of Yuta explicitly bothering Ten, and there aren't any other reasons for Ten to feel so negatively toward him.

Bottom lip clasped between his teeth, Johnny feels the sudden overwhelming urge to change the subject. "Hey, Ten, can you stay over tonight?"

"Sure, let me text my mom."

Johnny only realizes he's grinning like an idiot when the muscles in his cheeks begin to ache. Through all the uncomfortable happenings with Ten as of late, he still can't help but to feel more attached to him than ever, an almost childlike dependence on him weighing down Johnny's chest. Being near Ten does things to him he'll never be able to describe in words.

 

 

 

 

As the faint glow of the moon bathes them in pale light, Johnny falls asleep with Ten in his arms.

"G'night, Johnny. Love you," Ten slurs as the edges of Johnny's mind begin to fuzz.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait! I've been fighting my way through writer's block as of late, and fuck, it's got me stressed.


	3. Chapter 3

Thursday, October 25th, 2012

 

There's a lot to be done in the four hours they've been given. Johnny's gaze skims over the thrift store tees and pairs of used jeans, his thumb grazing the small cup of fresh dirt from his mother's garden. He still has no idea why it's there. ("For authenticity," Yuta had said.)

"So how are we going to go about this?" Hansol's the first to speak up, expression wary as he takes in the peculiar items littered across the table. Johnny doesn't blame him. Dressing as a gang of zombies for Halloween certainly isn't the most original idea, but Yuta had been persistent, even going as far as to drop dramatically to his knees and cling to Johnny's leg to get his way. In the end, they had all agreed. It's not like they're planning on using these costumes for trick-or-treating, anyway.

Taeil delicately rubs the end of his nose and gives a contemplative hum. "We should tear the clothes first," he advises finally. Shifting his weight onto the opposite foot, he allows his hands to drop down by his sides, a cleft forming between his eyebrows. "Should we go for neat slices or bloody gashes?" Taeil winces at the disbelieving glare Ten sends his way.

"That kinda goes without saying, smartass," Ten huffs indignantly. "Last time I checked, zombies don't prance about fancy dining rooms with _neat looking_ clothes."

"Well said." Pinching the worn fabric of the nearest shirt in his fingers, Taeyong's nose scrunches up.

Johnny nods along carefully as his friends discuss the most efficient way to rip open the clothes. They don't need to be too sedulous in a situation such as this; there's not much that can go wrong with a pile of secondhand garments.

"How about we just use our hands?" Yuta suggests, and everyone circling the table seems to agree.

So they each drag a shirt toward them and get to work, the comfortable silence only disturbed by the occasional grunt slipping from Taeil as he struggles to inflict the tears he desires on the flimsy cotton. The others, however, progress with little to no difficulty, and within minutes Taeyong's completed his and is in the process of aiding Taeil.

"Nice." Ten's on his tiptoes and is peering over Johnny's shoulder with great interest, the pads of his fingers resting on Johnny's biceps to steady himself. Johnny tries to block out the way his skin blazes under Ten's ginger touch.

"Thanks. Yours is pretty cool too," Johnny murmurs as he glances over to Ten's side of the table. It's almost unreal how perfectly placed each gash is on Ten's finished product, giving the shirt a gorgeously rugged appearance. _Perfect for a zombie,_ Johnny notes with a twinge of pride. But then it hits him that Ten's excelled at art since well before they crossed paths, so it's to be expected that his is the most accurate costume. Then again, that might just be Johnny.

 

 

 

 

Barely over an hour into their session, they've successfully torn the jeans and shirts. Johnny would be relieved if it wasn't for Yuta scooping up the cup of dirt in his palms.

"Dude, no way are we using that," Johnny huffs. He has no idea what lunacy has blighted Yuta, and it's freaking him out just the _tiniest_ bit. "It probably has bugs in it or something."

"Nonsense," Yuta chides soulfully, shuffling around the table to smear dirt-caked fingers over the jeans, then hurriedly taps a bit on the shirts. Now that Johnny gets a decent look at it, he supposes it doesn't look too deplorable. There's a sort of realism to it, or as Yuta had put it, 'authenticity'.

Ten folds his arms over his chest and gives a slow nod of approval, then uncrosses them to tuck his hands nonchalantly into his pockets. "I'd say we deserve a round of applause," he chuckles with a proud grin.

The corners of Hansol's lips twitch upward and he smooths his palm over one of the shirts to flatten the wrinkles. "I agree. They do look pretty cool," he admits.

Wrinkling his nose in thought, Johnny's lips purse tightly. He's not entirely sure how they're going to use the costumes. Taeyong had suggested attending a Halloween party, and Ten had proposed that they play a friendly prank or two on innocent passerby (to which Taeyong had hastily agreed), but Johnny's never been the type of guy to put much thought into his pranks, and the only Halloween party he's aware of is being hosted by Kun. Johnny would rather not get involved with Kun's parties.

"This is gonna be fun." Ten's eyes are glinting with skittish mischief, but Johnny can only feel his stomach sink further. Whatever it is Ten's planning, he for once wants no part in it.

 

 

 

 

Friday, October 26th, 2012

 

Never in Johnny's entire life has he been suffused with such a heavy sense of unease at the sight of alcohol. Yuta's counter is crowded with heavy bottles of Blue Ice vodka, and Ten's eyeing them with avid longing, covetous fingertips grazing the side of one of the bottles. Johnny can't recall Ten stating his relationship with alcohol, but from the way he's staring at it, Johnny ventures he's pretty damn comfortable with it. _That's news to me,_ he thinks, an increasing surge of vexation swelling within his chest.

"I hate to break it to you, Yuta, but there are a few more years until we're allowed to drink that stuff," Taeil points out apprehensively. Predictably, Hansol's quick to agree with a grim nod. Taeyong, on the other hand, appears hesitant, sharp features masked with uncertainty.

"I don't know, it does look kind of cool," he diffidently admits. And Johnny understands why; this isn't a thing Taeyong would usually agree to. He'd always been the one to put his foot down when they were being witless, the one to draw a resolute line to keep them in check. It's troubling for Johnny to see him enticed by temptation. But then he notices where Taeyong's insecure gaze is locked, and everything suddenly makes sense.

He's doing it for Ten.

"I knew you'd come around one day, Tae," Yuta coos delightedly, palm settled comfortably on the dip of Taeyong's shoulder. "Is this my birthday present or something?"

Taeyong issues a weak smile and shrugs him off. "Let's just drink. I'm tired," he mumbles as he turns toward the vodka, loosely coiling his fingers around the neck of a bottle.

 

 

 

 

An hour and four bottles later, they're on the floor, and Johnny's never felt more lightheaded in his life. The lights are blinding and the walls are spinning. Then again, that might just be his head dropping into Ten's lap. He can feel the comforting tingle of Ten's fingertips clumsily caressing his scalp, but it's messy and uncoordinated, his nails occasionally digging in with too much pressure, his fingers catching every now and then on Johnny's tangled hair.

"It'll be okay," Ten slurs. "It'll be okay." Johnny can't comprehend the meaning behind his words.

"Fuck..." Yuta's sprawled out on the couch with his knuckles raised theatrically to his forehead. He's giggling about something Hansol's doing just out of Johnny's blurry line of vision, and tossing and turning on the cushions, occasionally accidentally knocking them to the floor.

"Johnny, there's a..." Ten's brow furrows delicately, "a Halloween party... At Kun's house. Tomorrow," he adds hastily. Johnny doesn't bother with discretion when he rolls his eyes, rubbing his cheek against the side of Ten's knee.

"Not _Kun_ ," Johnny languidly grouses with a sluggish sigh, shifting onto his back so he's somewhat making eye contact with Ten. At least, he thinks he is. It's difficult to tell when all he can make out is a dark blob.

"Why not?" Ten's not stroking Johnny's hair anymore.

"'Cause he's a damn _junior_ , Ten. I'm... I'm a senior," Johnny drawls. "Too cool for junior parties."

He vaguely registers the faint chill of the kitchen tile beneath his cheek as Ten's familiar warmth vanishes, and he can make out Ten struggling to stand up, hands grappling at the side of the counter to hoist himself to his feet.

" _I'm_ a junior, Johnny. Am I lame now or something?"

Ten's annoyance is oddly sobering, for Johnny's vision has cleared for the most part. An addled frown creases Ten's eyebrows and Johnny suddenly feels an overwhelming surge of guilt. Scrambling to his feet, he pinches the end of Ten's nose.

"That's not what I meant-" he begins awkwardly, but is abruptly cut off.

"Come to that party with me, or I swear I'll wax your arms when you're sleeping," Ten snarls under his breath, and that settles it for Johnny.

"All right, all right," he concedes reluctantly. "I'll go with you."

He only hopes that the overjoyed grin softening Ten's features is worth the pain and embarrassment he's certain to endure.

 

 

 

 

Saturday, October 27th, 2012

 

"Ten, put that away," Johnny groans as Ten comes scurrying into the kitchen, phone in hand. It's been days since Johnny's been around Ten without him filming everything, and longer still since he's seen Ten without the device clasped in his grip.

Ten shushes him with a finger to his lips, gifting Johnny a sated smile when he falls into abrupt silence. "I'm just trying to film my favourite guy." Shuffling forward to glance over Johnny's shoulder, he scans the kitchen counter with mild curiosity, reaching out to prod the chocolate. Johnny swats his hand away. "What're you making?"

"Food for the party later," Johnny replies smoothly, shooting Ten a falsely bitter glare. "It'd be rude to show up at a party I was _forced_ to attend without treats." The eye roll this earns from Ten is antagonized.

"Well _excuse me,_ I want to spend more time with you. You were the one complaining, after all," he points out. Johnny wants nothing more than to shut him up.

Opting for silence, Johnny selects an unwrapped bar of dark chocolate and begins breaking squares off, shifting gauchely around the counter so his back is to Ten's phone. He's irked, to say the least, when said phone suddenly dips into his vision uninvited.

"Flash flash, motherfucker," Ten snickers from behind, and Johnny can detect the obnoxious mirth in his tone.

It's evident that the meaning behind Ten's excessive filming has changed; at first, it was most likely for laughs. Johnny knows Ten, and adding in a clip of Johnny baking to the DVA with some ridiculous caption about how 'hardworking' and 'generous' he is simply seems like something Ten would do. However, it's also within Ten's personality to keep his camera on so Johnny can't snap at him. That would also end up on the DVA.

"You can't keep filming me forever, y'know," Johnny muses as he pushes the separated chunks of chocolate into a semi-neat pile.

"I know." Ten smiles that endearing smile of his, and Johnny kind of wants to snap his pretty little neck. "When I have to stop, I'll run."

 

 

 

 

Johnny hadn't been expecting much when Ten had mentioned who was hosting a party. Qian Kun's just a simple eleventh grader. The only things he has under his belt worth mentioning are his unfathomable popularity and admittedly breathtaking looks. Otherwise, he's dull and lazy. But Ten's in the process of proving Johnny wrong, of showing him just how fucking _amazing_ Kun is at hosting parties. Although, he has no idea why Ten had suggested it would be Halloween themed. Hardly anyone's in costume, and the songs are fairly common, the spookiest thing in the room being a tacky, sparkly spider with legs that seem to extend for miles.

Aside from that, it appears to be an entertaining party.

Of course, the ridiculous amount of sexually repressed teenagers dry humping on the couch is a little repulsive. At least Johnny has Ten to guide him through such a raging mess.

"I'm hoping there's no alcohol here," Johnny comments wistfully, the dull headache from the night before still throbbing in the back of his skull. Ten emits a derisive chuckle, and Johnny fights the temptation to smack him upside the head.

"Of course there's alcohol, fatass. It's a _party_." Despite the mockery lacing his tone, Ten's grip on Johnny's hand is gentle, reassuring, and at least he knows Ten feels somewhat apologetic for dragging him to his inevitable doom.

With each uncertain shuffle forward, there's a person colliding with him, sometimes unfavourably attached to another. It makes his stomach twist objectionably. But Ten seems completely fine with it, entirely used to it, and Johnny's beginning to wonder what it is Ten's been up to in his moments away from him.

It's when he ends up standing awkwardly in front of a stained table littered with red plastic cups (some of which are _used_ , Johnny notes with a contemptuous shudder) and Ten's sliding a large bottle of Citra toward him that he fully regrets his weak will. Ten's arching an eyebrow expectantly, and it's clear he actually wants Johnny to _drink_ the stuff. Johnny can already envision his mother throwing a fit.

So he grasps the bottle around the neck, raises it to his lips, and drinks deeply.

"Dude, you could've just used a cup," Ten points out. _Touché,_ Johnny thinks pensively, but the bitter liquid is slipping down his throat and it's definitely more palatable than whatever shit Yuta had offered him the day before.

Johnny isn't certain of the moment he stopped drinking, but he's suddenly being hauled away from the outskirts of the party, and the swaying bodies are pressed on either side of him, sticky with perspiration.

"What are we doing?" Johnny calls over the thundering rhythm. It's a song he's definitely heard before, but he can't quite recall the title of. Ten knows it though, because he's mouthing confidently along to the lyrics, bright eyes crinkled softly with delight.

"Dancing, duh," Ten responds, voice straining above the resounding music. Johnny's beginning to wonder why they didn't simply head somewhere further away from the source of the deafening music, but Ten seems to like it here, head bobbing along to the beat, plastic cup clasped in his slackened grip.

"I don't know how to dance," Johnny admits dumbly, head beginning to fill with damp cotton. He can't feel his legs anymore.

Ten bats his eyelids blearily and gives a careless shrug of his shoulders, the mixture of liquids in his cup slopping over his hand. He doesn't seem to notice. "Just... Just _move_ , I guess." The grin on his face is proud, yet reassuring, almost as if he genuinely believes he's offered Johnny the most refined piece of advice he'll ever get his hands on. In Johnny's blitzed state, he doesn't disagree.

 

 

 

 

It's half an hour later when Johnny's hunched over a trash can does he regret setting foot inside Kun's house.

"I don't think I like it here anymore," Johnny groans breathlessly. He's curled up with his hands clenched feebly to his stomach. Whether it was the overt displays of lust or simply the alcohol that brought the onslaught of nausea, he isn't sure. Johnny just wants to go home.

"We can go back if you'd like," Ten offers gently, warm hands soothing over Johnny's back, and Johnny finds himself leaning into Ten's solacing embrace. He doesn't get how Ten isn't suffering with him since he'd appeared to be equally as tipsy earlier, but he doesn't have the strength to complain, finding a sense of stability in Ten's tender caresses. He feels like a child being consoled by its mother.

"Mhm."

"Let's get you out of here, then." Regardless of how unstable Ten is as he's guiding Johnny through the undulating crowd, he does a fairly commendable job at making it out into the streets. The sensation of the chilling wind whispering across Johnny's skin is welcome after hours of stuffy air.

The smell of Ten's hair is reminiscent of rum and cola. It makes Johnny's nose crinkle with distaste, yet at the same time he truthfully doesn't mind, the sharp scent mingling with Ten's familiar smell almost charming in its own way.

"Hey, Ten?" _Don't. You're drunk._

"Yeah?"

"You're kinda cute." Johnny can feel the corners his lips lifting goofily of their own accord, but Ten seems to find it charming, his delicate fingers curled around Johnny's wrist.

Then, Johnny's stomach tears itself in half and he's spilling his guts all over the pavement.

 

 

 

 

When they finally stumble in through the door, Yuta and Taeyong are perched on the back of Johnny's couch, waiting for them. Johnny tries to block out their mocking caws as he hauls himself upstairs, the stench of vomit trailing after him.

Johnny loathes parties.

 

 

 

 

Sunday, October 28th, 2012

 

Johnny's head is being torn in half. He's never been the sort of guy to regret his choices, as he's a firm believer in 'You Only Live Once', but whatever it was past Johnny consumed to make his body pulsate with such intolerable agony, he despises him for it.

He's heaping his toothbrush with minty toothpaste, scraping his mouth with it, but the watery tang of beer and acid is still lingering just beneath his tongue. No matter how much mouthwash he's seconds away from drowning in, it won't disappear. _Fuck it._

Tripping down the stairs (he swears they're more crooked this morning), he staggers into the kitchen. The blatant frost of the tile beneath his bare feet is enough to send shock racing up his spine. Slipping gracelessly onto his ass, he remains settled on his back on the floor, limbs spread out at odd angles.

"Ten," he whimpers as his ears dully pick up the sound of padding footsteps, and Ten's sleepy, swollen face is dangling over his own, puffy eyes dark with concern.

"What?" Ten grumbles, dropping to his knees, then sprawling across Johnny's chest. Johnny wants to throw up again.

"Get off." The walls are surprisingly dull, yet they appear simultaneously vibrant, and Johnny's convinced he's going insane. Either that, or Ten's murdering him with his body heat.

"You two look..." Taeyong halts in the doorway, his nostrils flared haughtily. "Uh... Disgusting. Get up," he reprimands. Johnny doesn't feel like moving.

It's only evident Yuta's joined them when his jarring cackling resounds through the house, and suddenly Johnny _does_ want to get up, if only he can squeeze the breath from Yuta's lungs.

For the first time in his life, Johnny hates Sunday. Everything would be less hassling if he was still nestled under his covers.

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, October 30th, 2012

 

_It's crazy how seriously they take Halloween at this school,_ Johnny thinks as he scans the rows of handmade lollipop ghosts dangling listlessly from the railings. The classrooms have been strung with orange and white lights, counterpointed by black wire coiling around the doorframe. In all his years at the school, Halloween's been a huge deal, but Johnny can't seem to comprehend why. It simply seems to be nothing more than a cheap marketing scheme to him.

"Johnny, are you excited?" Ten's making his way over to him with a broad grin on his lips, neatly brushing out a tuft of store-bought cobwebs that had been snagged in his hair. Johnny's about to give as honest a reply as he can, (he's far too drained from the remnants of his hangover to bother with his usual feigned enthusiasm), when Taeyong's suddenly behind Ten, offering Johnny a genial smile.

"Ten's been bouncing off the walls all morning," Taeyong chuckles with a fond ruffle of Ten's gorgeously glossy hair. To fend off his swelling discomfort, Johnny echoes the laugh to the best of his ability, but it sounds strained and forced to his own ears.

"Yeah, I know. I've been his friend for a long time." _Way longer than you. Stop acting like you know him better than me._

"Right, I almost forgot." Taeyong bashfully rubs his nape and scans the hall behind Johnny, gaze flickering ever so briefly to Ten's back before meeting Johnny's stare. "The bell's going to go off soon. We should probably head to class," he murmurs.

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Johnny smiles drily and watches the two scurry away, Ten grabbing Taeyong's elbow and being _far too affectionate_ for Johnny's liking.

"Whatever," he sighs, turning and trudging in the opposite direction. He's not heading toward his classroom, but he can't find it in himself to care, the endings of a headache ebbing away from edges of his consciousness.

Ten will come around. He's sure of it.

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, October 31st, 2012

 

The grass is damp beneath Johnny's palms, making his jeans feel cold and sticky from where they're pressed against the grass. He's been crouching in the ditch for an hour, and he's beginning to grow restless. Yuta's interminable grousing and Ten's steadily worsening temper aren't making the situation any more tolerable.

Johnny's mildly suspicious of Ten's ulterior motives for organizing such a prank. Everyone had initially planned on creating the zombie getup for a bit of fun in Johnny's backyard, but then Ten and Yuta had begun spewing slightly more innovative ideas, and in the end of it all, Johnny had agreed.

"Are you sure this is all you're looking forward to, Ten?" he inquires carefully, and is answered with Ten's wry smile.

"This is what we planned for, isn't it?" Although Ten appears benign, Johnny can still sense something abnormal about the way he's perched beside him, a pristine eagerness now glowing in his eyes. It's more than a little unnerving.

According to both Yuta and Ten, the gist of their prank is to crawl from the ditch, emit unsettling groans, and effectively terrify whoever happens to be skipping past. It shouldn't be too difficult to zero in on prey since nearly everyone is outside trick-or-treating.

"I think I see someone," Hansol hisses suddenly, and Johnny glances down the street to spot a relatively average-looking girl adorned in classic witch attire. Surprisingly, she's without company. Johnny can detect Ten's exhilaration. If he's honest with himself, he can feel it streaming through his own veins.

"C'mon, who's going to go out first?" Yuta's smirk is nothing short of catlike as his predatory gaze rakes over them. Johnny suppresses an agitated sigh when Yuta's eyes come to rest on Taeil. "What about you? Don't be a pussy again, Tae."

"I..." Taeil's hands are anxiously drumming on his knees, and Johnny almost feels sympathetic. At least, for a moment. It's gone the instant Taeil breathes a careful, "Fine."

It happens before Johnny has the time to register what's going on. Taeil's hobbling from the ditch with performed clumsiness and flinging himself at the girl, and she's shrieking, the ear-piercing cry punctuated with a sickening _thwack_. Then Taeil's collapsing face first into the rough concrete.

Taeyong wastes no time in darting out to check on him, but the toe of her boot collides with his ribs. Johnny winces in sympathy. Ten's cackling softly beside him, hand planted firmly on Johnny's knee. Johnny's not sure if the gesture is meant to placate him or keep him where he is.

Surprisingly, Ten only slinks in after Yuta's on his knees beside Taeyong, although thankfully he isn't wounded. Not like Taeyong and Taeil. Realization seems to have dawned on the girl by this point, as she's spluttering apologies and hesitantly reaching out for the two groaning in pain, but her hand lingers in the air, awkward and unsure.

Ten's fingers are gripping the back of Yuta's neck. From his seat on the grass, Johnny can make out Yuta's pained grimace. Hansol's tense beside Johnny and he's mumbling something under his breath, scrambling forward suddenly.

The girl's a receding dot on the hill by this point.

"Ten, what the fuck are you doing?" Johnny finds himself gasping. He shoots up and clumsily smears the mud from his palms on his jeans, ( _They're ruined anyway,_ ) then drops down beside Ten. Ten's nose is now buried in the nape of Taeyong's neck, whispering hushed sweet nothings into the dark strands of his hair, and it all hits Johnny like a freight train. The impact has him reeling.

Whether Yuta has a thing for Taeyong has been a debated topic between himself and Hansol for a while, with Johnny cracking dirty jokes about the two and Hansol stiffly waving off each one. But what with the way Yuta had desperately flung himself over Taeyong, it's suddenly painfully obvious just how right Johnny had been.

The thing that weighs on him the most isn't Yuta. It isn't Taeyong, either, nor the ferocity in Hansol's eyes as he'd dragged Ten to the ground. It's Ten. His hands are fisted in Taeyong's shirt like he'll crumble into sand if he lets go, and it destroys something in Johnny he'd never thought would break.

And suddenly, Ten's suspicious behaviour makes sense. His unusual amount of time glued to his phone, grinning like he'd just inherited all the gold in the world. His inexplicable aversion to Yuta, and how willingly he'd hurt him. The way he's been hanging from Taeyong as of late, hugging him, smiling at him in the way he used to reserve for Johnny alone.

Ten isn't his anymore, and Johnny's beginning to doubt he ever was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been really difficult to write as of late due to all the classes and homework.  
> This chapter's a bit shorter than the others, and I'm not sure if it makes much sense, but I need to have it uploaded today or I might not get around to it-  
> Thank you for dealing with my infrequent updates! I know it can be frustrating sometimes, and for that I'm sorry.  
> Oh, and it's still early, but happy Halloween! It's been Halloween to me for two months already ouo
> 
> Yet again, thanks for reading! Every comment inspires me to keep writing, even when I don't feel like it.


	4. Chapter 4

Thursday, November 1st, 2012

 

The days when Johnny fully appreciated school are shadows of the past. His memories of unalloyed elation at entering a classroom are muted at best; unsurprisingly, he wishes he could forget them, allow the stupidity of recent months to drift away like dust in the wind.

A sizeable amount of his morning has been passed reminiscing on middle school, of fond memories with Ten under the blazing sun, of summer evenings snuggled together under Johnny's paper-thin blankets. Things were arguably more pleasant back then. No Yuta cutting him off at inopportune moments, no _Taeyong_ existing close enough to Ten to blight everything Johnny knew of as sane.

Life was good.

But now Johnny finds himself slouched over his textbook in the back corner of the room, a dull headache pulsing just above his right eye. He's exhausted; sleep wasn't an option the night before, and how could it be? The wounds were too fresh at the time, _hell_ , they still are. Johnny can still feel his body breaking down, his chest caving in.

Scrutinizing the people around him, Johnny thinks he catches a glimpse of a girl casting him a sympathetic glance. When his stare flickers over to her desk to check, she's facing forward, posture attentive, enthralled. _Maybe I'm going crazy,_ he muses drily.

It doesn't seem to matter how deeply he breathes in through his nose, or how firmly is jaw is clenched. Tears are still pricking at the corners of his eyes. It's becoming increasingly strenuous to remain stoic, and although he's seated at a desk where no one's likely to spot him, he can't risk getting caught _crying,_ of all things. He'd never live it down.

So he cautiously rises from his seat and swiftly exits the classroom, the strap of his bag clenched securely in his fist. The bell's going to ring in six minutes, and Johnny's definitely not planning on returning to the room. He might as well bring everything with him.

Softly shutting the door of the bathroom stall behind him, he slides the lock in place, dropping his bag to the floor and seating himself atop the toilet seat.

Then, he buries his face in his hands and finally allows the tears to fall. He can feel them rolling down his cheeks, wetting the sleeves of his sweater and dripping into his lap. It's growing more difficult to breathe. His inhales are brief and rapid, exhales trembling.

The somber ache in Johnny's chest is expanding. Soon enough, his entire body is shaking, tense, uncontrollable sobs muffled in the palm of his hand. He can't see, vision obscured by countless tears.

For not the first time as of late, Johnny finds himself filled with regret for having shared Ten with the others. Perhaps he would've fallen for him instead if things had been different.

_Right,_ he thinks bitterly, scrubbing futilely at his eyes to dry them. The tears keep falling. _It's too late._

 

 

 

 

Friday, November 2nd, 2012

 

They're meeting at the vending machines again, although today it feels somewhat dreary, almost as if there's a layer of despair obscuring them in its shadow. No one's saying much. At least, they had been until Johnny stepped in. Ten and Taeyong had been contentedly holding hands, fingers slotted comfortably; Yuta had been animatedly chattering, his grin eager and suffused with delight; Hansol and Taeil had been propped against the vending machines with fond smiles painting their lips. Then Johnny had appeared, and the cheer instantly crumbled, dwindling into nothing but uncomfortable silence.

"So..." Ten begins cautiously. He's not holding Taeyong's hand anymore. "How've you been, Johnny? We haven't seen much of you." His concerns are met with concurring nods from the others. It's rather peculiar to be met with solemnity as oppose to untarnished glee, the concept of his friends feeling _wary_ in his presence almost foreign to him.

"I've been fine," Johnny answers flatly. He's aware his tone is clipped, defensive, but at least the tension in Ten's shoulders drains somewhat, a relieved smile lifting the corners of his lips. Maybe it's simply because he had actually received a reply. Perhaps he's actually buying it.

"Enough small talk." Taeyong claps his hands with a sense of finality. "I hate it. How about we all head downtown and get something to eat, yeah?"

The mere utterance of Taeyong's voice is enough to make Johnny's chest go numb. It's wearisome to listen to, especially in the aftermath of Halloween's unpleasant occurrences.

"That's not a good idea. The bell's going to go off in ten minutes, we won't be back in time," Johnny points out. The frosty bite in his tone is intentional this time, as is the gaze he pointedly directs everywhere but Taeyong.

Face falling suddenly, Ten cautiously steps toward him, the palm of his hand resting flat against Johnny's elbow as he leans up to whisper, "Are you sure you're okay?" It's heart wrenching to feel prickles of discomfort crawl under his skin at the touch. He's accustomed to sensations of giddiness, embarrassment, and eagerness at each drag of Ten's fingers. This is entirely new, and Johnny's not sure if he likes it.

"I'm fine," he mumbles under his breath as he wrenches arm away from Ten, who stumbles briefly to catch his footing. His brows are creased with uncertainty, and his eyes seem to hold a sense of doubt. ( _Crack,_ goes Johnny's heart.)

There's a ginger press of a hand against the back of Johnny's arm, and when he turns his head to catch a glimpse of who it is, he's met with Hansol's solemn features, marred with concern, something empathetic carried in the furrow of his eyebrows. Johnny feels a vague tingle of contentedness. It's unsurprising how foreign it feels.

As he glances back to end his banter with the others, Johnny's not too shocked to realize they've all rekindled whatever joyous conversation they were having before he'd arrived.

The only one watching him is Yuta.

 

 

 

 

Sunday, November 4th, 2012

 

It's unlike Johnny to be so pervaded with anxiety. _Fuck, I need Hansol,_ he thinks numbly as his feet carry him toward the church, fists clenched and trembling at his sides. Pulling on a jacket had completely slipped his mind; he'd been far too worked up for that, too unbearably nauseous at the mere thought of asking for help.

Hansol's always at the church on Sunday. He simply drifts about it, eyes distant, unfocused. ( _"I'm not even religious," he'd laughed. "It's just so rare to find a quiet spot to think these days."_ ) Naturally, that's where Johnny's headed. He's desperate to talk to Hansol. Hansol's the only one reliable enough to Johnny to go to in times of urgent need, and he always has been. It's just the sort of man he is.

"Hansol!" Johnny calls as he spots said man propped against the side of the church, the faded paint flaking around him. Hansol's expression brightens marginally and he patiently waits for Johnny to cross over, offering a familiarly accepting smile. It's pleasant and open, a simple curve of the lips that seems to speak, _I'm here for anything you may need._ And right now, that's something Johnny's relieved to discover.

"Ten?" Hansol ventures, and Johnny answers with an affirming nod. While Hansol clearly prefers to linger off to the side of the group during conversations, he's by far the most observant, able to pick up the merest change of emotions within seconds. He never fails to awe Johnny.

"I just need someone to give me advice. You were the first one that came to mind," Johnny admits slowly.

"Your place or mine?"

"Mine."

Reassuringly, Hansol claps a hand on Johnny's shoulder and maneuvers him around the outskirts of the church, eventually making his way out to the side of the road, briefly glancing both ways before crossing.

The wind is icy as it lashes Johnny's skin, the areas it inflicts feeling battered and gashed, but he's growing numb to it, the familiar cold steadily becoming a bittersweet nothingness. He can tell Hansol's experiencing something similar; his nose is suffused with colour and his eyes are a little watery from the chill. Johnny supposes the only difference between them is how warm Hansol is inside.

 

 

 

 

"For how long have you felt so fondly of him?" is the first query from Hansol, and Johnny isn't quite sure how he should respond. Admit he'd fallen for a kid he'd almost bullied back in middle school, or lie and answer that he'd developed feelings for Ten only months before he was cruelly snatched away? The first may come off as pathetic; why had he waited so damn long? However, the second would sound slightly insane as well. Who would be so torn up over such freshly fostered emotions?

Johnny settles for the former. "Since middle school. He was in seventh grade." He speaks slowly, carefully, words dragging like brick over cement. Hansol's eyes narrow, but it's hardly noticeable, expression slackening with sympathy just seconds later.

"That's..." Hansol's bottom lip catches between his teeth as he exhales delicately through his nose, "surprising to hear. I honestly didn't pick up on your feelings for him until we were in eleventh grade."

Now _this_ is information entirely new to Johnny. Hansol's always caught onto the merest of issues within a matter of days. Him taking the duration of a year to figure things out, especially when Johnny's almost certain he'd been a little too blatant about his undying love for Ten, is more than shocking. It's startling, and it almost leaves Johnny speechless.

"Yeah, well I guess I didn't act how I should have around him. Even he didn't know how I felt," Johnny murmurs wistfully, his throat constricting. The tears welling up in his eyes are entirely unwelcome, yet they refuse to fade all the same, spilling down his cheeks in rivulets.

Hansol's large hand is rubbing delicate circles into his back. The action only serves as a reminder of his presence, and Johnny clenches to jaw firmly to keep from releasing any degrading whimpers, rubbing furiously at his eyes.

_You're softening up,_ is all he can think. _That's twice this week._

 

 

 

Wednesday, November 7th, 2012

 

_What day is it?_ Johnny's gaze flickers down to his phone, keeping the screen partially obscured by his sleeve. _Oh. Wednesday._ He's instantly flooded with disappointment; he'd honestly believed it was Friday. Time's been ticking past at a sluggish pace as of late, and it seems to Johnny that it's only growing slower. It's nearing the point of being unbearable to be awake. At least when he sleeps the hours pass by.

Thankfully it's last period. As soon as the sweet ringing of the bell sounds throughout the classroom, he's free to rush from the school, hurry home, and collapse on his bed. It'll be a welcome relief from the hell he's experiencing now.

The lights are too blinding, his classmates' chatter too loud, and his focus is completely shattered. It's impossible to gift the teacher so much as a sliver of his attention. Maybe he should just take a nap. He doubts the teacher would notice.

It's a brief motion he catches from the corner of his half-lidded eyes that startles him from his daze. Taeyong, seated at the very front of the class, diagonal to Johnny, has been casting him fretful glances every few minutes, and it's driving Johnny insane. What does he fucking want? From the fleeting glimpses he's caught of Taeyong's face, the boy appears somewhat distressed. Johnny can't quite fathom why; Taeyong has everything, from his striking looks, to his amiable personality, to _Ten._ The sight of him so distraught is worrying, yet at the same time it sends sadistic bolts of joy bursting through Johnny's veins.

At least there's a fragmented, imperfect sliver of Taeyong's life that Johnny is know aware of. It'd be all too unjust for _him_ to hold the heavens.

 

 

 

 

"Johnny, wait up!" Taeyong calls as he hurries down the hall, straining to not run. Johnny doesn't comply to the request. Instead, he paces on forward, coming to a stop only when Taeyong's hand lands wearily on his shoulder. He's panting, extremely out of breath, and Johnny finds himself wondering just how long Taeyong's been trailing him.

"What do you want?" Johnny's words are curt, frozen to the core. It's nothing Taeyong should be new to by this point. Yet there's still a well-concealed pain in his eyes, an onerous sort of longing, and it takes every last vestige of Johnny's will to not draw him closer and apologize for everything. After all, he understands why Taeyong's been so on edge as of late. It's his own fault.

"What's been with you lately? You haven't spoken to me much," Taeyong murmurs, arms self-consciously crossed over his waist.

_I wonder why,_ Johnny thinks with a twinge of bitterness, but he maintains his stoic mien with little difficulty, lips drawn into a tight line. "Whoops. My bad." The doubtful look Taeyong's sending his way is searching. Johnny heaves a weary sigh. "I'm just not in the best mindset right now. Stay away for a little while, I'll be better soon."

"Hopefully." Taeyong offers him one final, dismal smile, a pat on the shoulder, then trudges away. Johnny doesn't feel the least bit guilty.

"That didn't look too good," Ten murmurs from beside him, catching Johnny off guard. He has no idea when Ten arrived, but he's clearly been there for quite a while, and it's evident he saw enough to despise Johnny, yet his hands are on Johnny's waist, eyes cast straight ahead.

And Johnny doesn't understand how he could have ever believed it would be any different. Ten's oblivious, Johnny would even go as far as to say _dense,_  and this trait is what guards him from Ten's abhorrence. It always will.

 

 

 

 

Friday, November 9th, 2012

Johnny doesn't expect the hand that grips the back of his shirt, nor is he prepared to be hauled around the corner and caged by two steady arms. The eyes gazing up at him are determined, and the weariness residing in the pit of his stomach only worsens in response, the boy's intense stare draining. _Yuta._

"Get over him," Yuta commands simply, his palms pressed firmly to Johnny's shoulders. The most unnerving thing about the whole situation isn't the way his shoulder blades are forced uncomfortably into the solid wall behind him, nor is it the looming realization he's already late for class. It's the absence of foolish glee in Yuta's dark gaze, not a trace of his usual playfulness to be uncovered.

"Who?" Feigning innocence probably isn't Johnny's wisest decision, but Yuta reveals no hints of irritation. In fact, his eyes guard a twinkle of honest jest, the slight twitch of a corner of his lips giving away his amusement.

"You know who I'm talking about. Forget him."

And Johnny does, so he releases a trembling breath, once taut muscles losing tension beneath Yuta's somewhat consoling grip. If he's not unleashing a storm of lighthearted mockery, then Johnny figures he must desperately wish to help.

"How?" It's a simple question, yet Johnny feels a twinge of indignation at allowing it to slip from his lips. He must sound pathetic. But Yuta doesn't seem to mind, empathy softening his features like butter.

"I understand what you're going through," he admits after a few moments of unusual silence, gaze dropping to the tiled floor. "I felt that way too. But you've just gotta move on, y'know?" The smile decorating his lips is genuine and sweet. "I did."

At first, Johnny's perplexed, possibly even a little suspicious. _Did Yuta like Ten?_ he finds himself thinking, but no, of course not. His eyes had always been trained on someone else.

Spotting the crease of Johnny's brow, Yuta huffs a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "I know what you're thinking, and definitely not. Not Ten, never Ten." And then his smile becomes vaguely bittersweet, tone lamenting. "Taeyong was more my type."

"You said you've moved on," Johnny points out uncertainly.

"Oh, I have. I love Hansol now," Yuta explains, expression cheerful once more. Johnny briefly wonders how Yuta's recovered so rapidly. It's been barely over a week and he's already prancing about, flinging himself into Hansol's arms, and Johnny notices his heart shrivelling at the realization of how _easy_ things are for everyone else. Everyone else but himself. Yuta clears his throat. "What I'm saying here is I've moved on. Mostly." A wry chuckle. "You should too."

Breathing shallow, Johnny recalls Ten's eager smiles, his bright eyes, his wonderfully imperfect laugh.

"Fine. I guess it's about time," he concedes, and Yuta flashes him a proud grin.

Behind his back, Johnny's fingers are crossed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah, it's been so long since I last updated, really sorry oh my god-  
> I can explain. I had to get stitches above my eye due to... ahem... clumsiness, and I was out of it for a few days. That, and to be honest, I got lazy. I've also been getting obsessed with SF9 lately, they distracted me.  
> This chapter's pretty short but I hope it's enough, it certainly took me long enough to write.  
> Thank you all so much for reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief note that things focus on Ten on the 16th of November, but every day other than that in this chapter is about Johnny.
> 
> Happy reading!

Thursday, November 15th, 2012

 

It's a brush of lips, a locking of fingers, yet it makes Johnny's insides twist with envy all the same. Ten's gifting Taeyong the sweetest of smiles and Taeyong's grinning back, cheeks dusted with flustered glee as he leans in for another kiss. Johnny considers turning away more than once throughout the ordeal. He doesn't.

He has an inkling that his masochistic side is peeking through, but he finds he doesn't mind all that much, the old wounds reopened anew at the sight of Ten's pretty lips eagerly pressed against someone else's forcing pricks of bittersweet agony into his skin.

Once an avid fan of public displays of affection, Johnny had found couples placing enough faith in their love to share it with the world absolutely endearing. There had been a pathetic hope within him to one day be able to do such a thing with his true love. However, Johnny can sense his prior adoration dwindling, lungs filling with tar as the delicate pecks progress into hungry bites. _Nobody wants to see that,_ he thinks morosely.

It's at this point Johnny finally decides to look away. His breathing is shallow, fists clenched furiously, but he struggles to sate himself, to force back the aggressive thoughts broiling in his skull. He's unsurprised that the idea of Taeyong getting terribly injured is the most prominent fantasy he has, and it sickens him to the core. Taeyong's supposed to be his friend. Why is he not letting him live his life?

"Dude, chill out. There's nothing you can do now," Johnny mumbles quietly to himself as he hurries away from Ten's locker. Perhaps he should move on, but he desperately doesn't want to.

 

 

 

Friday, November 16th, 2012

 

"How many students do you think have _actually_ prepared for their midterms, Jisung?" Ten inquires from behind the hefty camera, the strain that had once been apparent in his tone now gone from months of practice with its weight in his arms. He has an unsatiated desire for captivating content, something that will surely enthral the audience of the DVAs (which, for obvious reasons, is the whole school). Exposing the juicy studying secrets of the entire freshman grade is the simplest way to go about that.

"Not very many," Jisung answers eventually, and his eyes are darting about beside Ten, arms uncomfortably stiff at his sides. Ten vaguely wonders if he should have asked for his consent to be filmed beforehand, but hurriedly brushes the thought aside. _Nah,_ he thinks. _Everyone loves being on camera._

Several prying questions and an unpleasant stretch of silence later, Ten's interview is interrupted by a series of sharp gasps from behind him. It's an unusual thing for there to be any reason to make such a noise, as nothing especially interesting ever happens, so Ten whips around lightning fast with the camera clenched tightly in his grasp to catch the scene. He figures it isn't very professional of him, but he doesn't particularly care at the moment, too preoccupied with the increasing hope of drama.

Until he realizes that there is no drama. All he can see is Johnny, and behind Johnny's towering height he can make out Taeyong's much slighter form. _Damn,_ he thinks with a brief pulse of irritation as he turns back around to Jisung.

Jisung is no longer there.

"How hard is it to stay still for five minutes of shooting?" Ten grouses, gritting his teeth against the strain of the camera on his shoulder. It seems so much heavier now that he isn't using it.

 

 

 

Sunday, November 18th, 2012

 

That morning, Ten had woken up to a rather unwelcome text from Doyoung. They'd become joined at the hip as soon as they'd been told they would be working closely for the rest of the year, and Ten had grown to feel even more fondly for the boy at the realization he could take some playful mockery. However, Ten feels nothing but frost in his veins for Doyoung as he skims over the message.

 

  
**FROM: DOBUNNY**

10:03 AM

_Sorry, I wasn't able to edit the Daily Video Announcements yesterday afternoon, and my schedule remains packed today. You might have to take over for me? Whoops. I've left everything in the tech lab._

  
10:04 AM

_Don't screw it up._

 

  
Sucking on his teeth with exasperation, Ten drops his phone carelessly back on the nightstand, flopping onto his mattress and burying his face in the pillow. His muscles are still throbbing from the inadequate stretching he'd done before working out yesterday, and he can't be bothered to drag himself from bed.

Sadly, work is still work.

Heaving himself out from under the still-warm covers, he's shocked by a sudden coldness, the tiny hairs on his arms sticking upright. He's always hated leaving his bed.

 

 

 

It takes him a little over twenty minutes to ready himself for the morning ahead, ten minutes of which he'd spent futilely attempting to tame a stray twist of hair. _Oh my god, why now?_ he thinks, agitation making his chest constrict. Of all the days his hair decides to not cooperate, it chooses today. _Ugh._

Eventually, Ten gives up and hurries out of the building, his bag clutched tightly in his hand. He still can't quite believe that Doyoung's occupied enough to need to dump his work load onto him, but it's not the first time it's happened. Ten truthfully believes Doyoung's full of shit.

Reluctantly, he tugs on his jacket and impetuously tucks the keys into one of the pockets, feet dragging down the pathway. Thankfully he lives relatively near to the school. He has no desire to wait for a taxi in weather as chilly as it is.

 

 

 

"Lazy little fucker..." Ten grouses as he settles himself at the desk, hoisting his bag into the seat beside him. It's no wonder Doyoung's always conveniently 'busy'; editing the DVA is no simple task, and it requires herculean effort to shed the hour worth of unnecessary footage.

Regardless, Ten takes a breath to ready himself. _Next time I see Doyoung, I'm kicking his ass._

Most of the time spent trimming clips and layering sounds is monotonous. It's only when he comes across the video of Jisung's interview does a smile grace his lips. That had been fun, probably the _only_ enjoyable thing about hefting around a camera the size of his own head, and although he hasn't received much in the way of response from Jisung, he's fond of the boy.

Ten narrows his eyes as he catches a glimpse of movement in the corner of the screen.

_Oh_.

In the few years Ten has known Johnny, he's never considered him to be an aggressive person. Johnny's polite, thorough in his kindness, and not once has Ten caught him showing violence to another living being.

But now he's watching in mute panic as Johnny's knuckles collide with Taeyong's stomach.

It's a brief flicker of motion, yet its happening is undeniable. Ten's unable to gauge Taeyong's reaction, for the instant it had happened, he'd shifted the camera back toward Jisung. He's only somewhat irritated with himself. As much as he wants to know what happened afterward, he isn't sure how it will affect him, witnessing Taeyong's pain. Truthfully, Ten's appalled Taeyong didn't make him aware of this when it happened.

Regardless, Johnny's not the same anymore. That Ten's sure of. He's paralyzed, rooted to the seat, throat constricted and hands clammy. _His_ Johnny would have never laid so much as a finger on his friends.

When Ten finally gets around to finishing the DVA, he's furious, boiling to the brim with anger. _He's an asshole, and assholes get what they deserve,_ he thinks with a flicker of uncertainty, his fury only half appeased as he leans back in the chair. He swallows thickly and blinks at the screen. "God, Johnny."

Eyelids drooping, he stifles a yawn in the sleeve of his sweater, reaching into his bag to pull out his phone.

 

  
**FROM: JOHNNY APPLESEED**

11:27 PM

_it's late._

  
11:43 PM

_hey, Ten? love you <3_

 

  
Ten doesn't bother replying.

 

 

 

When Doyoung hurries in to collect the completed work the next morning, he skims over it briefly, lips quirking with complacency. He fails to notice the display of violence jerking in the corner of the screen.

 

 

 

Monday, November 19th, 2012

 

The morning air is frigid, a kind of finger-burning cold that only comes about in the beginnings of winter. It's intensified by the indifferent front Ten's put up. Johnny's not used to being the focus of Ten's dark, furious gaze, but it seems that's what he's become, and he doesn't know what it is he's done wrong.

Of course, maybe he lashed out at Taeyong. Guilt is still gnawing at his conscience for that. But there's no way Ten found out about it.

Shuffling into homeroom with his hands stuffed in his pockets, Johnny eases into his seat. He's a little bit later than usual, but fortunately made it in time. The furtive looks from Taeyong are more frequent than they had been last week and Johnny feels a cogent urge to be anywhere but where he is.

His teacher follows the standard morning routine: a bright welcome, a fill-in of upcoming school events (Johnny's more than enthused for the holiday-themed events he knows are soon to come), and last but definitely not least, the daily announcements.

The segments fade by, bearing little to no contrast to the ones aired the day before. Ten's interview with Jisung is a welcome change, but it still breaks Johnny in the tiniest way, chipping merrily away at what little he has left. It's just what Ten's voice does to him.

Johnny isn't prepared for the discriminating clip of footage, but thankfully it's hardly noticeable, nothing more than a shifting of pixels in the corner of his eye. But he'd definitely noticed it, although it doesn't seem like anyone else did. It makes Johnny's heart drop all the same.

 

 

 

Ten's smiles have always fascinated Johnny. His practically unflawed teeth, his thin yet _oh so inviting_ lips gleefully curving up toward his cheekbones, the soft scrunching of his nose. And most importantly, the warmth pooling in his cocoa-coloured eyes. Johnny swears there are suns in those eyes.

Johnny longs for Ten's smiles. The _genuine_ smiles.

All he seems to earn are the contemptuous smiles; the caustic twitch of the corners of his lips, the derisively arched brow, the sneer in his once glowing eyes. Whatever sin Johnny's committed to deserve this, he's desperate to repent.

The only other smiles he receives are pitying ones, each cast over Ten's squared shoulders. Johnny feels helpless.

"I heard your dog got up to some crazy shit on the weekend," Taeil offers, and he steps aside to allow Johnny entry to the circle, resting a comforting hand on his elbow.

A ghost of a chuckle breezing from his chest, Johnny hums, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah. She's always had a thing for stealing my family's underwear, but this time she went for the neighbour's. _The neighbour's._ "

Yuta's eyes widen and he gives a shocked bark of laughter, hand flying up to cover his mouth. "She _what?_ "

At first, Ten had ignored him entirely, opting instead to wrap an arm around Taeyong's waist and press a sweet kiss to his cheek. That was fine. Harrowing, but fine. Now he's acknowledging Johnny's presence with more than an unpleasant smirk. Nevertheless, his words are what truly stings, coming out biting, laced with venom, and Johnny's beginning to wish he'd never opened his mouth at all.

"God, were you always this boring?" Ten murmurs under his breath. It's a harmless sentence, yet it hurts coming from him, like salt in a freshly carved wound. He's still adorning that hateful sneer, and Johnny's throat is tight. But Hansol's still smiling, encouraging him to continue, so he does.

"...And then my mom had to chase her in circles for a straight hour, while my dad and I were-"

"Shut up for a sec." Ten takes out his phone, lips pursed as he scrolls through something, Taeyong peering inquisitively over his shoulder. Yuta's jaw is clenched. Johnny's eyes burn. Glancing up from the screen, Ten blows out a surprised chuckle, eyebrows raised. "Are you _crying?_ Seriously?" There's a flicker of something unintelligible in his eyes. Johnny guesses it might be guilt, but he quickly brushes that thought aside, blaming it on the tears obscuring his vision.

Johnny dabs at his cheeks with his hand, chewing on the inside of his lip as his fingers come away damp.

So he turns around and walks away. Ten seems a whole new level of unattainable, his perfection only increasing the farther away he is from Johnny, and Johnny's beyond the point of doing whatever it takes to be the target of Ten's fondness again.

He can hardly believe he'd ever thought Ten was harmless.

 

 

 

Thursday, November 22nd, 2012

 

In the beginning, Ten's ice-cold fury had been painful, his enmity fostering the anxiety huddled in Johnny's chest. Now, however, it's simply beginning to get on Johnny's nerves. Ten seems uncharitable and selfish. It's continued for far too long; a friendship of their extreme shouldn't be marred by whatever the hell it is Ten's so worked up about.

So Johnny devises a plan. It's relatively simple, and should be easy to follow through. _Corner him and force him to talk._ But Ten's stubborn, and he always has been. Johnny's prepared for that. Somewhat.

A Thursday afternoon is far from the ideal time Johnny desires to go about his business, but he'd rather fix things sooner than later, and he doubts Ten would want anything to do with him on a weekend.

It's last period and Johnny occasionally glances up at the clock, fingers agitatedly drumming on the granite-smudged surface of his desk. _Nine minutes to go._ Only nine minutes, yet it feels like an hour, stretching into interminable dullness. He's all too ready to spring from his seat the instant the bell sounds.

Johnny almost feels regretful. While he's still completely clueless on what it is he's done, Ten's been the light of his life for three whole years, and when you're as close as teenage best friends tend to be, you figure things out about each other. What makes them smile, what irritates them, every last one of their nervous ticks, and possibly the most crucial of all: how they cope with difficult situations. Johnny's mother has always believed that things such as this are what truly flesh out a person's character.

Ten's never coped well.

Johnny doesn't blame him for it. He is, after all, only a kid, despite how callous he can appear on the outside. When Ten's in shock, he grows distant. When he's furious, he lashes out. When he's disappointed... he changes. This fact alone is what draws Johnny to a final conclusion: he must have broken Ten's trust.

Ever since he'd met him, Ten's seemed almost puppy-like. He's energetic, loyal, and unpredictable as hell. Nevertheless, his faith in others isn't as infrangible as it sometimes seems. Even the smallest thing can set him off. Johnny would know. But he's softhearted beneath it all, bearing a heart as compassionate as a child's, and once he understands, he forgives. All Johnny has to do is make him understand, somehow.

The sudden pealing of the bell is long overdue, and Johnny's slipping out the door in an instant, bag haphazardly slung over his shoulder. If he's quick enough, he'll be able to catch Ten.

To Johnny's exhausted relief, he spots Ten propped up against a wall, fiddling with the earphone that isn't in his ear as he blinks down at his phone. There's not a soul beside him, so Johnny doesn't hesitate to stride over, gripping Ten's wrist and hauling him forward.

"Johnny- What the fuck are you-" He's digging fiercely at Johnny's hand, desperately trying to pry himself free, and Johnny flinches at the words spitting from his lips. Exhaling shakily once the door finally slips into view, he hurries toward it. Ten protests loudly from behind.

And then Johnny shoves him into the closet, pushing in after him and slamming the door shut. He hovers his free hand above the doorknob just in case.

Ten violently wrests himself from Johnny's grip, glaring up at him impatiently. "I'm going to be late for my bus! Open this _damn_ door, Johnny Seo, or I swear..."

"You swear what? You'll hurt me? Ten, you may not like me right now, but I know you. You'd never hurt anyone." Johnny struggles to keep his tone even, wincing at the audible cracks that slip through.

Ten's stare darkens. "I wouldn't, but you would." The closet is dim and it's difficult to make out much aside from the occasional dull shadow, but Johnny swears he can spot a foreign dampness to Ten's eyes, glistening faintly in the slants of artificial light jutting from the gaps in the door. "How could you do that, Johnny? Just tell me why."

"Do what?" Johnny's beyond perplexed. Since when has he ever hurt anyone? He's beginning to feel stupid, his own discomfort suddenly oddly blatant in the cramped space. It all seems so dramatic, even to him.

He barely has a moment to register Ten's eyes narrowing before he's overwhelmed by sickening pain. There's a heavy thud and Johnny realizes he's on the floor, curled in on himself, sheltering himself. He's nauseous, vomit stinging the back of his throat.

"You hurt my boyfriend," Ten answers flatly. He shakes the ache from his fist and storms out of the closet, leaving the door half-open behind him. Johnny squints against the blinding light. There's not much in his head aside from sheer, intolerable pain, vague whispers of thoughts slipping in and out of his consciousness.

_So that's why._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, that took a while. Sorry guys! But I finished it much faster than I was going to, since I got a sudden burst of inspiration. So yay!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, seeing as there might not be another one for a while. Ahem-
> 
> And happy early birthday to Hansol and Chenle!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this is flash backs, just a little forewarning.

September 18th, 2009

 

When Johnny enters the classroom, he isn't expecting to come across so many students. He'd figured nobody would want to come out so openly, that the only people who would attend the meeting would be a handful of flamboyant nobodies that had never pretended to be straight in the first place, but god was he wrong. Now he's faced with twenty or so students. Twenty or so students that are staring right at him.

"Hey, you! Come over here." There's a boy gesticulating madly from across the room, beckoning him closer. Johnny obeys. "Who are you? You're tall as fuck," the boy comments, expression awed yet impish.

"I'm Johnny. You?" Something tiny in the back of his mind compels him to ask, although he's not entirely sure he wants to know. The boy is eagerly petting his arm and it's unsettling in many ways.

"Yuta. Nakamoto Yuta, to be exact. And this," Yuta jabs a rather forlorn-looking kid in the cheek, "is Taeyong."

In great contrast to Yuta, Taeyong seems to not want to be there. His arms are folded securely over his chest and his eyes are downcast, lips drawn into a tight line. _Yeah. He hates it here._

"So... What are you?" Johnny asks as he plops down into the seat beside Taeyong. Throat drying at the withering look he receives from him, Johnny draws his hands back into his lap and averts his gaze. Still, he can feel it searing a hole in the center of his forehead. "Uh... Like, what _are_ you?" This seems to get his point across.

With a barely noticeable nod of acknowledgement, Taeyong shrugs. "I don't know," he replies earnestly. "That's why I'm here."

"He's definitely not as straight as he wants to believe. But he refuses to admit it, so I had to drag him here. Y'know, for a little... self-discovery." Yuta flashes them both a blindingly smug grin and leans back.

_Ah. Well that makes sense._

Johnny nibbles on his bottom lip, an apprehensive chuckle slipping from him. "Well, you never know. You may end up being more than you thought."

 

 

 

Monday, September 7th, 2010

 

The hallways are like tunnels, twisting throughout the building in a seemingly infinite maze. Each sharp turn is unidentifiable from the last. Deafening silence rings in his ears and Ten releases an exasperated grumble, gripping Doyoung by the wrist and heaving him forward. Neither of them have the vaguest idea where they're going. They just know they're expected somewhere, were expected to be there _ten minutes ago,_ and maybe they're both freaking out.

"It's only the first day, Lord have mercy!" Doyoung grouses. He isn't doing much in the way of aiding Ten, digging his heels against the pristine white tiles and throwing his weight about. Ten grits his teeth.

His schedule is crumpled and nearly illegible by this point, but he can faintly make out _C142_ beneath the desired class. Gaze flicking from one door to another, Ten's grip tenses on Doyoung's wrist. _C138, C139, C140..._ He blinks a few times to clear his vision. _C146, C147..._

"What the fuck?" he hisses, anxiety twisting in his stomach. Doyoung has come to a halt beside him. His brow is creased, expression puzzled, and he casts Ten a perturbed glance.

"I want to die," is all he says. Ten's never related to a stranger more.

They stumble about the hallways for several more minutes before Doyoung suddenly grows dead silent, freezing in place. His eyes are trained upward, and Ten follows his stare. What he comes across is a dull, black plaque with miniature numbers carved over its sleek surface. He's dumbfounded for a moment. Then he sees it.

_C141, C142..._

"It was _right there_ the whole time." Doyoung seems agitated, and Ten understands why, suddenly drowning in his own irritation. However, that soon passes and he's yanking Doyoung forward again, skidding to a halt outside the classroom.

The door is shut. Of course it is.

Ten and Doyoung exchange urgent glances for a moment before Doyoung violently gestures toward the door and hisses, " _Open_ it!"

"Fuck no!" Ten whispers back, and he can hear his voice straining with desperation. First-day classes only take up a span of twenty minutes due to the length of the introduction assembly, so they're more excuses to get to know the teachers than actual _classes._

Scanning the halls for anyone who may be witnessing his shameful predicament, Ten catches a handful of students glancing at him from their own classes. Aside from that, he's safe.

Then he hears a voice from behind.

"Do you want to go in?"

Just his luck. Of all the people who could have appeared, it's Qian Kun, the rumoured most popular ninth grade student. Ten's only aware of his status in the school's hierarchy because of faint whispers he'd heard that morning in the cafeteria as Kun strutted by. Kun never attended his middle school (at least, to the extent of his knowledge), so Ten doesn't exactly _know_ him. He simply knows of him.

Doyoung and Ten exchange flustered looks before responding with a meek nod. Ten's almost certain his face is an unflattering shade of crimson; he feels his cheeks burning. With a furtive glance to his left, Ten notices a similar flush painting Doyoung's complexion.

With a lighthearted chuckle and a roll of his eyes, Kun steps forward and opens the door for them, peeking into the classroom. "I've got two more for you, Miss," he simpers.

Mortified, they scurry into the nearest seats, heads hung low in shame. Only a few other students are actually _looking_ at them, but it's humiliating all the same.

When Ten finally raises his head, he spots Johnny seated in a classroom across the hall, eyes glittering with amusement. He sends Ten a playful wink, then returns his attention to his teacher. Ten groans under his breath. He's never hated Johnny more.

 

 

 

Monday, September 28th, 2010

 

Johnny's favourite moments of the school day are the minutes he gets to spend with Ten before class.

They're settled on two parallel benches, one of Ten's legs stretched across the gap to rest in Johnny's lap, blinking wearily as he taps away at the screen of his phone. Sure, his hair is a dark mess and his hoodie is one size too big, but Johnny thinks it makes him look a cuddly kind of soft. His fingertips are itching to stretch out and graze his golden skin.

"Are you doing okay in your classes?" Johnny inquires suddenly, because hell, it's only just hit him that he should be playing an active role in Ten's high school career. "You'd better be." He sends Ten a look several shades too pensive. "I'll call your parents."

Ten peers up from his phone and stifles a yawn in his sleeve, offering a sleepy smile. "I think so," he assuages. "I've been doing all my homework if that's what you mean."

"Good." Johnny realizes he's lost Ten's attention to his phone again, so he taps his ankle gently, satisfied only when Ten manages to drag his gaze upward. For a boy so cheerful, he certainly reaches levels of laziness others can only aspire to achieve.

Now that Johnny thinks about it, he hasn't seen Ten with anyone, save for some wide-eyed kid with a visage not unlike that of a bunny. Are they even friends? By the looks of things, they had only stumbled across each other in a last-ditch effort to find their class.

So he decides to ask. "Have you made any friends?"

Ten looks like he's barely managing to suppress an overdramatic eye roll. "Yeah, _mom._ " Johnny isn't convinced, and Ten evidently picks up on that, an irritated sigh escaping him. "A couple of guys in my English class. Jaehyun and Doyoung. Although Doyoung's more of an acquaintance. For now," he hastily adds.

And that, believe it or not, is enough to sate Johnny's curiosity.

The sound of the warning bell pierces the air around them and Johnny stands up, Ten scrambling to his feet a few moments later. He blinks at Johnny, a sweet smile decorating his lips. Johnny's heart flutters. Until, of course, it turns satirical and he tugs Johnny into a dramatic embrace, pulling back to blow him a kiss.

"Love you, sweetie," he croons.

Johnny heaves a sigh and reaches forward to pinch his cheeks, attempting to match Ten's saccharine tone. "Love you too, darling."

They continue to shoot disgustingly desperate kissy faces at each other as they part ways. When Ten darts into a branching hall and vanishes from sight, Johnny's infatuated grin doesn't fade. He is, once again, satisfied.

 

 

 

Friday, October 16th, 2010

 

Johnny's heart skips a beat as Ten plucks the candy from his grasp with his teeth.

" _Thank_ you," he mumbles around the sweet, stressing the first syllable. Johnny wants to smack him solidly across the cheek.

They're settled on Johnny's bed again, nestled in his warm heap of pillows, and Ten is regarding the posters stamped across his wall with great amusement.

"Hulk? Iron Man? Johnny, it's been years since you left grade school," he teases. His eyes are glinting in that playful way that reminds Johnny of a puppy, his shoulders trembling with poorly suppressed giggles. Although he's aware the mockery is directed at him, he finds it beyond adorable, deciding to maybe let Ten off just this once. He'll exact his revenge later.

"They're just cartoons, jackass," Johnny insists as he slings a leg over Ten's stomach, keeping him anchored to the mattress. "Stop making fun of me. Besides, we have more important things to discuss."

Instantly, Ten visibly perks up, absentmindedly dancing his fingertips over Johnny's thigh. His touch sends sparks fizzing through Johnny's bloodstream, but he remains stoic.

" _Halloween_ things?" Ten's features are practically glowing with eagerness. "'Cause I've got an idea. Screw trick-or-treating, I want to spend time with you." Gesturing dramatically with his hands, his eyes squint for emphasis, voice declining to a theatrical whisper. "Horror movies. Just us, Yuta, Hansol, Taeil, and Taeyong. The ideal team." He glances to Johnny for approval, his bright eyes suddenly reminding Johnny irrefutably of crescent moons. "What do you think?"

"It sounds like a lot of fun," Johnny agrees.

He's always been fairly decent at handling horror movies. Sure, sometimes he'll flinch a little or catch the occasional nightmare, but overall, he isn't bad. But what about Ten? Surely he can't be too heavily affected by them either, or he'd never have suggested it to begin with. Nevertheless, Johnny finds himself oddly compelled to observe Ten's reaction.

He's too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice Ten's change in demeanour. Just moments before he'd been all muffled snickers and twinkling eyes, but now he's settled on his stomach, face nuzzled into Johnny's pillow. He's grousing about how late it is but Johnny can't discern the majority of the words tumbling from his lips.

Finally, he lifts his head and peers at Johnny through sleepy eyes. "I'm tired. Let's sleep."

"Oh my god," Johnny breathes, gingerly prodding the baby fat of Ten's left cheek. "What are you, a toddler? It's not even nine yet."

Ten opens his mouth to reply, then closes it again, arching an eyebrow in a sense that speaks volumes to Johnny. _Shut the fuck up before I beat your sorry ass._ Johnny blows out a flustered sigh and crawls over to plop down beside Ten.

Johnny's fingers find the hair at the base of Ten's nape and scratch softly, pulling Ten's cheek flush against his shoulder. He's content as he feels the curve of Ten's sated smile against his chest, the boy practically purring. It's all so comforting and warm, and soon enough, he's drifting off with an already dead-to-the-world Ten in his arms.

 

 

 

Saturday, October 31st, 2010

 

Of all the things Johnny has ever imagined Ten being, a scaredy cat certainly isn't one of them.

Although Johnny's got to hand it to him; he's doing a decent job at masking his fear as exhaustion. (Johnny doesn't quite understand how it's possible for him to do that, but he doesn't question it.) With every little jump, Ten whips out his feigned weariness, pretending to be doing nothing more than arching his back in a show of exhaustion, arms stretching above his head. Each squeak is posed instead as a yawn. Johnny thinks it's kind of cute, if not a bit too obvious.

"Are you okay?" Taeil queries gently, his tone soft as butter. However, if he's attempting to solace Ten's terribly concealed fear, it's proving unsuccessful.

"'Course I am." Ten visibly swallows. "Just ghosts kinda freak me out a bit, y'know?" Yeah. Johnny does know. As does everyone else settled on his couch, save for perhaps Yuta, but Johnny will allow Ten to believe otherwise.

It's not the forthcoming jump-scare that has Johnny so high-strung but Ten's startled shriek, his hands flailing about and battering Johnny's nose. With one brief glance he knows it was Yuta's doing. The guilty smile on his lips and the single hand gripping Ten's ankle explain the whole unfortunate situation.

"The atmosphere was just right, I had to-"

"Oh fuck off, Yuta," Taeyong snaps, the irritation in his tone biting. And then Johnny sees the tears rolling down Ten's cheeks and Hansol's bloody nose. Hansol doesn't seem to mind, though; he's too preoccupied with rubbing a reassuring hand up and down Ten's quivering back.

He must have been caught off guard. Johnny understands. He's been there before.

"That wasn't very nice of you," Taeil reprimands, as motherly as ever. Yuta just locks his jaw and tucks himself into the far corner of the couch.

At a second glance, maybe Ten's laughing.

 

 

 

Tuesday, November 24th, 2010

 

"Why the hell are you going out in just a sweater? It's _twenty-fucking-eight_ degrees, Ten!" Johnny chastises. Ten is stood before him in little more than a thin sweater and jeans (Johnny has learned from personal experience that jeans can, in actuality, be quite painful to wear in cold weather), and it's setting off every last one of his agitated ticks. Bouncing knee. Clenched jaw. Twitching eye. Nevertheless, Ten appears oblivious to Johnny's internal struggle, the derisive smile he's wearing on his lips so familiar to Johnny now.

"Because it probably won't feel that cold," is Ten's simple reply. Johnny knows he'll change his mind the second they step out of the house but remains silent, gifting Ten a honeyed smile. A smile that he intends to scream, _Suit yourself._

Several moments later, Taeyong joins them by the front door, quickly tugging on his jacket and a pair of gloves. "Ten, you're going to freeze. Suit up," he chides. Ten stubbornly sticks his tongue out.

"I'm not a baby, y'know. Fuck off."

Johnny's beginning to wish he'd never let the two stay the night.

 

 

 

It's only predicted that the instant they're outside, Ten begins to shiver. And protest. And _cling._

"I told you so," Johnny simpers with a knowing stare.

"C'mere, kid." Taeyong heaves a weary sigh and draws Ten close to his body, rubbing him gently to keep him warm. Something twists in Johnny's gut. The covetous feeling vanishes as Taeyong nods down at Ten, glancing at Johnny, beckoning with his eyes. Satisfied, Johnny rushes forward to aid him.

The three tread like this over the frost-laced grass, arms intertwined and bodies pressed flush together.

 

 

 

Saturday, February 27th, 2011

 

Johnny pretends to brush a tear from the corner of his eye. "They grow up so fast," he sniffles, craning his neck to bury his face in Hansol's shoulder. If he lifts his head slightly, he can make out Ten. Content, frosting-painted Ten, a stick of chocolate on his tongue and a blob of sweetness on the tip of his nose.

Two of Ten's friends are over, Doyoung and Jaehyun, but Johnny isn't acquainted with them securely enough to sob all over their expensive clothes. Yet. So instead he settles for pestering lenient Hansol, who he knows for certain won't say a word against him. Ever.

"So how old are you now, Ten?" Jaehyun inquires as he slings an arm around Ten's broad shoulders. "Are you finally Doyoung's age, huh?"

"He's fifteen," Ten's little sister pipes up. Of course, everyone in the room is aware of it; Johnny, at least, simply wanted to hear someone say it. To validate that yes, indeed, his baby Ten is growing up. He's now a year older than he was the day Johnny first laid eyes on him.

"Make a wish, Ten!" Doyoung cheers. Ten blows and the candle flickers out.

It's an unsettling thought.

 

 

 

Two choruses of Happy Birthday later (one delivered in English by Johnny and his friends, the other in Thai by Ten's family), Ten is buried chin-deep in a pile of clothes, stuffed animals, and chocolate, and after grousing that he isn't five anymore, he's offered the last of the cake. The last four slices of cake.

The shit-eating grin he's wearing doesn't bother Johnny in the slightest. It's enthralling, comforting in a way, because Ten is still the same asshole he was when he was fourteen. Johnny doesn't know why he expected anything different.

And when Ten turns to him in bed that night, arm draped over his waist and eyes staring earnestly, Johnny isn't fazed. Nor is he as Ten firmly takes his hand in his and whispers, "Let's never fight, okay? Whatever happens, let's always forgive each other."

Johnny agrees with a nod, "Okay. I promise," before he links his pinky with Ten's. "So what was your wish?"

Ten offers him a flustered smile and, blowing out a shaky breath, gives Johnny's hand a tender squeeze. "That was my wish."

 

 

 

Friday, November 30th, 2012

 

When Johnny had dragged himself from bed that morning, he hadn't predicted this.

Ten is only five steps away, his big brown eyes searching Johnny's, and he looks like he might be about to pull him into a tight hug. Johnny is trying not to get his hopes up, though.

"I'm sorry," Ten breathes, and he seems only seconds from bursting into tears. "I'm so, so sorry."

After everything that has happened, all the confusion and regret, Ten's apology alleviates a whisper of the ache in his chest. "It's okay." But it isn't, and Ten knows it. He reaches forward, hand hovering over Johnny's arm for a brief, heart-wrenching moment, before limply dropping back by his side.

"I know how you feel about me and Taeyong. I have since the beginning," he admits slowly. "I just didn't want to believe it. You were sad and it was all my fault, and I didn't know what to do so I just... ignored it." Eyes squeezing shut, he releases a frustrated sigh. Then he gazes back up at Johnny. "We've been friends for a long time, and trust me when I say I can read you like a book."

Johnny's heart stutters. "I know," he replies eventually. "I understand."

"Then please, can you forgive me? I know it's selfish, but I want things to be fine between us again. I'm..." Ten trails off, nervously wringing his hands. He's always had a difficult time expressing himself through words, and Johnny had once found it endearing. Awkward, yet endearing. But now he just wants Ten to say something.

"I'll try."

Johnny's cheeks feel damp and he dabs them with the back of his hand, mortified to find tears wetting his skin. He glances to Ten to apologize, but sees him in the same state, eyes puffy and cheeks tear-stained.

And that pretty much settles it for him.

"C'mere, you big baby." Johnny cradles Ten to his chest, allows him to silently cry there, all the while sobbing himself. "You mean so much to me, Ten. Don't-" He swallows thickly. "Don't pull shit like that again."

"I won't," Ten murmurs. When he leans back to meet Johnny's gaze, he appears to have calmed down. Johnny can't say the same for himself. "We promised we'd always be friends. I intend to honour that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was no class today because of the snow, yay~ So I decided to finish the chapter. I'm exhausted right now, it's late, so I apologize for any errors or what have you.
> 
> And it's December now, so it's basically Christmas until New Year's for me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note that this fic will be on hiatus for a while. I planned it very poorly and now have writers block, as well as a creative writing assignment to do that's due in a week. I'll update as soon as I get inspiration!

Saturday, December 1st, 2012

 

Ten is settled at the foot of Taeyong's bed, anxiously fiddling with his fingers. The atmosphere is rigid. It's taut, stifling, and Taeyong feels as if all the oxygen is being crushed from his lungs. Ten seems fine though. He always does.

So Taeyong takes the time to admire him, to brand his beauty deep below the surface of his mind. As much as he loves Ten, he knows what they have isn't what's best for him, and he'd rather lead a solemnly desolate life than endanger his friendships. Yuta had seemed wary of him. Johnny had seemed wrecked. And that, in the end, will always be enough to influence Taeyong's decisions.

"I think you know what I want to say," he mumbles, and Ten nods, bleakly staring down at the palms of his hands. He's refusing to make eye contact. _Of course._

"So get it over with, then?" Ten's tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Please."

Taeyong's heart fragments just a little. He's going to regret severing Ten from this part of his life, he knows it, and it makes his head throb interminably. But most of all, he's going to regret hurting him. After all, it was him who started this in the beginning. They both know it will make things better, though. He can see shadows of realization in Ten's eyes.

"I guess it's over, then."

Ten gives another small nod. "What I don't understand is _why_ this will help," he murmurs softly, sounding so broken, gaze finally lifting to meet Taeyong's own. And Taeyong longs to tell him, he truly does, but he can't. That would shatter the purpose of him going through with this in the first place.

_Someone else wants your heart,_ he thinks sadly as he brushes his knuckles gingerly over Ten's cheek, _and I fear I've stolen it from them._

"Things are tense, babe, you know that. Maybe it's just not the best time." Any other overdue answers flitting about his mind go unspoken.

"Okay." Ten is wringing his hands in his lap and it contrasts frighteningly with the stoic expression solidifying his features, eyes downcast yet again. He's either nervous or agitated, but Taeyong isn't certain. He never learned to read Ten.

Although Ten seems bothered, Taeyong feels light. Sad, but light. All he wants is to make things okay with his friends again, and maybe this will do it.

_Well, there's only one way to find out._

 

 

 

 

Sunday, December 2nd, 2012

 

Ten's rapture doesn't last as long as Johnny had hoped it would.

Johnny releases a pitiful sigh. What with him and Ten making up, he'd expected to see Ten's familiar grin once again. It's only to be expected that he was wrong. Ten's eyes are dulled with tears, skin flushed from crying, and Johnny can't believe it was once a rare sight. Now it seems to be all Ten does. Johnny blames himself.

Ten's breaths are quivering and his voice is uncertain as he nuzzles against the crook of Johnny's neck, mumbling, "I should've seen it coming," in litany. Johnny's heart is breaking for him.

"It's okay," he whispers against the top of Ten's head. "I'm here for you."

He should feel glad, should be soaring with relief, but he doesn't. He simply feels guilty. Guilty and selfish and cold, like he should have done more while could. Perhaps if he hadn't been so awful to Taeyong things would have worked out. Ten's pain feels like retribution.

"It's my fault, honestly." Johnny tenderly cards his fingers through Ten's hair. Ten stiffens against him.

"If you want to take the blame, then trust me, I'll let you," he mutters as he leans back, indecipherable eyes staring into Johnny's own. Solemnly, Johnny nods. It isn't that he wants to take the blame; that would be too much to ask from anyone. The fact simply is that he is to blame, therefore he needs to own up and pray he'll be forgiven.

"I'm sorry for breaking your heart, Ten."

Head tipping to the side, cheeks dampened with freshly shed tears, Ten offers him a smile. Empty, frostily coquettish.

"Then kiss it better."

 

 

 

 

Monday, December 3rd, 2012

 

Johnny awakes to a foreign warmth burning his back and an arm slung over his waist. Bewildered, he cautiously turns around, lifting the arm by the wrist to ensure his companion remains in their slumber.

Dark eyelashes, tanned skin, piercings. It's Ten, and suddenly everything makes sense. He's left breathless as he's crushed by a wave of memories, things he'd much rather forget. Ten remains peaceful beside him, undeterred by his pain.

There had been ghosts of sweet nothings and ice-cold fingertips, and Ten's lips had tasted of salt when Johnny leaned down to capture them. It had been tragic yet ethereal, and Johnny's heart remains cleaved from it all.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar awkwardness settles over him. What will Ten say when he opens his eyes? So Johnny slides from the mattress and scurries downstairs. Perhaps Ten won't remember, and he'll shuffle down after him and they'll be able to just _talk._ Of course, not about anything intimate.

However, there's a vague guilt gnawing at Johnny's stomach. Ten had been devastated, freshly from a broken relationship, and Johnny had made love to him without a second thought. But then there's another source of pain, a sort of dull realization, because maybe Ten didn't want it with _him._ Maybe he'd just done it for the sake of doing it, and Johnny was simply being used.

No matter the outcome, Johnny knows he hurts, and Ten most likely does too.

Sipping steadily on his coffee, Johnny anxiously awaits Ten's appearance. Surprisingly, he doesn't have to wait long, for Ten comes hurrying down the stairs mere seconds later with urgency in his glare and his bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

"School! It's _Monday,_ " he yelps. Johnny's already on his feet and slipping up the staircase.

 

 

 

 

When Johnny finally races into the school with Ten hot on his heels, he doesn't expect to find his friends lurking by the door. Taeil is wide-eyed, skin pale,and he grips onto Johnny's forearms as he incoherently sobs something about missing him. Taeyong, on the other hand, is patting the top of Ten's head. _At least they don't seem to have any hard feelings,_ Johnny thinks with a burst of relief.

"Why were you almost late?" Yuta snaps while slinging an arm around Johnny's shoulders. He seems vaguely concerned, which from Johnny's experience is a rare occurrence.

Johnny opens his mouth to explain, but Yuta's keen eyes have already landed on his neck and the corners of his lips are curled with wry amusement.

"I see you had fun."

Johnny can't remember a time he's wanted to strangle Yuta more.

 

 

 

 

Friday, December 7th, 2012

 

It's been nearly a full week and Ten still hasn't mentioned what happened that night. It's nerve-wracking, to say the least. Ten has never been the type of guy to remain silent if there's something on his mind. Which, to Johnny, only serves to worsen the anxious throb in his skull. Maybe Ten has nothing to say.

And that, in truth, is a harrowing blow for him to take.

Ten is sending him an odd look from across the kitchen counter, his brow creased and his eyes inquisitive. "Hey, are you okay? You look troubled." His expression darkens for a moment before he groans, shaking his head and adding, "Johnny, if this is about our fight, then it's fine-"

"It's not about that. Don't worry," Johnny interrupts. Ten looks as if he's waiting for him to finish, but when he utters nothing else, he reaches across the surface to gently squeeze Johnny's hand. His smile is solacing, and Johnny would be lying if he told himself he didn't miss it.

When Johnny's mother steps out from her room to shoo them from the house, they share an awkward grin and scurry out of the door hand in hand. Johnny can't quite pinpoint why he derives so much enjoyment from having Ten's fingers interlaced with his; perhaps it has something to do with the way they slot together so immaculately, as if they were designed to be together. Johnny is beginning to question when he began thinking so fictionally.

 

 

 

 

It's more than a bit too chilly out to be under the sky unprotected, but Johnny comes across convenient little ways to keep himself warm. Walking briskly, rubbing his forearms, keeping Ten tucked under his arm.

They come across an out-of-the-way shack piled to the ceiling with unavailing objects no one will ever find any use for. So Ten attempts to find a use, drumming amputated dolls on Johnny's shoulders and settling torn teddy bears atop his head. Johnny merely brushes him off. That is, until a borderline painful tickling sensation shoots down his spine. Jerking away, he whips around to see Ten gripping a head massager in one hand, a sheepish grin on his lips.

"That was fucking hilarious," he snickers. The teasing glint in his eye, however, vanishes the instant Johnny lunges at him, wresting the guilty item from his grasp. Ten grunts in protest as Johnny lowers it over his head, and he ducks away, shoulders tense.

"So was that." Johnny pets the top of his head. Ten bats his hand away, grumbling under his breath.

As Ten shuffles away to fiddle with some more odd trinkets, Johnny watches him go, his breath caught in his throat. It suddenly strikes him just how beautiful Ten is. And although he's now single, he seems more unattainable than ever.

 

 

 

 

Sunday, December 9th, 2012

 

"I want to apologize for everything," Johnny admits slowly as he stands, shivering, on Taeyong's doorstep. As hard as he tries to sound as genuine as he feels, he can't, eyes darting over the stone and grass beneath the thin soles of his sneakers.

"Yeah. You were kind of a jerk," Taeyong concedes with a reserved nod. "But so was I." Releasing a breathy chuckle as Johnny shoots him a pressing look, he shrugs. "I'd seen how you looked at Ten, but I still went for him anyway. That might actually make me worse than you in this."

Johnny hums. In all truth, he does somewhat agree with what Taeyong is saying. He just doesn't want to. He'd rather sound humble than self-preserving.

"So you two finally talked about it, huh?" Taeil chirps, catching Johnny off guard as he peeks his head out from behind Taeyong. He doesn't appear too bright, a dull, just-woke-up look in his lidded eyes, but he's smiling at Johnny all the same.

"I guess so," Johnny mumbles in reply.

Seconds later, both Yuta's and Hansol's sleepy heads poke around the doorframe, each with satisfied grins on their faces.

"Good job, Johnny." Yuta flashes him a proud thumbs up. "It's about time. Pussy." He whispers the last part into Hansol's ear, and Hansol poorly suppresses a snort of laughter, then he reaches out to ruffle Johnny's hair.

Although Johnny has Taeyong back, he's still brimming with uncertainty. He made it up to all of his friends. He helped out Ten. But the worry of Ten only using him is still settled in the back of his mind, and it fills him with a dour anxiety he can't quite be rid of.

As much as Johnny longs to be honest with Ten, he's scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /screams because it's the shortest chapter yet but at least it's out/  
> I feel like this fic is drawing to a close. Maybe within the next two or three chapters? I'm thrilled you've enjoyed it so far! It makes me happy knowing a lot of you feel so strongly about this and h n n g ;u; I'm a pleased potato.  
> I'm just a little guilty since I sort of breezed over this chapter. I'll try to make it up to you all in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know how this happened-  
> EITHER WAY, I enjoyed writing this eue Future chapters may (or may not whoops) be out soon, I'm bad at mOTIVATION UGH.  
> This one was more middle school but I promise there'll be more high school in the later chapters!


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